The Centaur's Shrine
by arnaldus
Summary: [complete] After HP and the Six Founders. Harry and his friends are called upon to fight a new enemy, challenging the legendary friendship holding them together. Meanwhile at Hogwarts a new trio will take over the Marauders' legacy.
1. Prologue

_Complete, After OOTP, Sequel to HP and the 6 Founders, AU Voldemort is dead. Harry and his friends will find themselves pitted against a new, very insidious enemy, challenging the legendary friendship holding them together. Meanwhile at Hogwarts a new trio will take over the Marauder's mantle. _

_This story follows the previous one which covered the previous summer and the first term of Harry's 6th year. Includes: Action, emotions, humor, some drama and lots of character interaction, flavored by bits of romance._

* * *

_... "You understand what I had to do now, don't you?" said Fudge._

_Percy shook his head, confused._

_"And it worked. Thanks Merlin. Everyone played their parts and it worked. We defeated You-know-who."_

_It was too much. Percy stopped sputtering and stood up..._

_**Prologue**_

_Hogwarts, flashback,_

The hooded figure was watching as night fell on the silent castle. The heavy cloth which was covering her did not hide the fact that she was woman. A last ray of sunlight lit her face, which would have been attractive if her features weren't set in such hard lines. Certainly, she didn't look happy. Her jaws were clenched, and her jet black eyes stared rigidly at the display before her.

Wisps of white fog were still lingering on the battlements, already being turned to grey and dark red by the dying sun. They looked like bleeding ghosts, and that was a fitting image for what was left of her great plan. The woman had been waiting for a hopeful sign after the great surge of magic had been felt by everyone for miles around. The enormous Death Mark floating above the building had disappeared at the same time, and nothing living had come out since.

_Maybe they're all dead in there._

That would be too good to be true, but it was possible. There was only one way to make sure. She started to move toward the main gate when a flash of light caught her eyes. She looked up and saw that it came from a window, high up on one of the great towers. She had never visited the school, but she knew enough of its layout to identify the room as one of the student dormitories, Gryffindor to be precise.

She stopped moving and concentrated, and suddenly her body was falling upon itself, twisting as it changed size and shape. One second later, a black and white magpie jumped into the air from where she had been. It flew in the direction of the castle, and toward the lighted window. After a quick flight, it was perched on the sill just outside the room, and looking inside.

The witch, because of course she was one, then saw teachers moving tiredly to float unconscious bodies of students to their beds. She frowned as she tried to understand what this could mean, and then she recognized one of the adult figures and a flash of fury overtook her.

_He's alive! That sorry excuse of a wizard didn't even manage to kill him._

She flew away, before she could utter the piercing cry of disappointment which would surely give her away. In flight, she gave herself up to the rage, and for a minute she was nothing more than a wild bird, darting madly over the Forest. When she could think clearly again, she dived toward the path which led to the village. She landed and resumed her human form.

She has recovered control of herself, and now her rage was reduced to a cold anger. Her face was fully visible now, and she was truly beautiful. Her hair was cut rather short and copper in color, framing a soft pale skin. She looked to be about thirty, but of course, years pass more slowly on the body of a witch. She started thinking about what she had just witnessed. A least she had the answer to her question. Voldemort had failed, and she had failed along with him. That was bad, but she was not one to dwell on past mistakes. There was still something to do, but she would have to act quickly. She walked quickly away to a spot from where she could Disapparate.

- - -

_Elsewhere,_

The five dark silhouettes materialized silently on the ground. One of them was the same witch, but this time she was accompanied by four masculine figures. Immediately upon arriving, they released the portkey that they had been holding, took out wands, and began to run along a rough trail.

The path followed a desolate shore. The deafening sound of crashing waves was around them. The place was just a broken piece of land adrift in the cold of the North Sea. A forgotten and lifeless island. Well, not quite lifeless. The vertical lines of a stone building were visible not too far away. A small fort, perhaps even something built by Muggles to hold a garrison against sea faring invaders, or maybe a prison. She wasn't familiar with the history of this place, but she was certain that no living Muggle remembered it anymore.

The fort showed no sign of activity, and the five figures approached unchallenged. There was a gate, closed with great wooden doors and reinforced with iron struts. The woman transformed once more and the magpie flew ahead of the four men. It went over the wall and disappeared inside.

The wizards arrived at the entrance. One of them tried the gates, but they were locked. They waited outside, ready for anything. Crackling sounds were heard, followed by the characteristic 'thump' of falling bodies. One of the man chuckled. Presently the gates opened into a small courtyard, and the four wizards rushed in. The woman was waiting for them.

Other figures were coming out of the main building, but the wizards were ready. Flashes of green and red light crisscrossed the night. The short battle didn't last long. The Dark Lord had taken with him all those of his followers who could fight properly. The invaders rushed inside and wreaked more mayhem on panicked servants.

"Don't kill the Rat!" warned the witch.

She knew a little about the miserable creature that Voldemort called Wormtail. He was a traitor, and a weak wizard, but for some strange reason, the Dark Lord trusted him with several of his secrets. Most of those would be academic now, but she could still use one of them.

She saw him at the end of corridor. He was trying to get away, which was a perfectly reasonable thing to do. He didn't make it. A stunner hit him, and he fell in a heap three meters from the door. Two wizards came forward with ropes to tie him up.

"Careful with the hand," she said.

She knew it was a gift from Voldemort, and as such it could be very dangerous. One of the wizards made a suggestive gesture with his wand and she nodded.

"_Diffindo!_"

"AAARRGH!"

Wormtail revived and stared stupidly at the stump of his arm. The silver hand lay on the ground, still attached to the bloody remains of his forearm. The wizard who had cut it off used a length of rope to make an improvised tourniquet. Peter Pettigrew groaned and didn't resist. His face was white and sweating.

"What ... Why?" He looked at the woman and suddenly recognized her. "You! You'll pay for that. My Lord will make you pay ..." He started to sob.

"Your lord is dead, little man," said the woman. "And now, it is I who commands. I need something which I believe is here."

She asked her question, and he shook his head. He was sure that she was lying. The Dark Lord would be merciless if he told her anything. Better to die than to face his wrath. The woman smiled cruelly, and on her beautiful face, the change was truly frightening. She extended her hand and touched his temple. His eyes grew wide. He screamed, but not for long.

A few minutes later, she came out of the building holding a large silver cup in her arms. The ornate symbols around the rim marked it as a pensieve. She wrapped it up in her cloak and waited while her companions finished sending wreaking curses and fireballs into what was left of Lord Voldemort's private hideaway. It had been protected by powerful charms once, but most of them depended on the owner being alive. In the morning, this place would be nothing but ruins.

- - -

_Hogwarts, _

Harry Potter was picking at his dessert at the Gryffindor table. Around him the joyful sounds of the end of term feast filled the hall. It was their last day at school, and the Christmas vacation would start tomorrow. The Hogwarts Express would be taking them back to London in the morning.

The day before, he and his friends had vanquished Voldemort. He still had trouble believing it had finally happened. Nobody remembered exactly how it had been done, except Dumbledore, who had erased their memories. That made it even more unreal. They were heroes and the wizard world was at peace.

He looked at the girl seated in from of him. Hermione was more beautiful than ever in the warm flickering lights of the candles and torches. She looked up, smiled at him and happiness filled his heart. He was free, of the prophecy, of his lifelong battle. He was in the most wonderful school ever, surrounded by his friends and close to his love.

He turned toward the head table where the teachers were chatting and toasting each other. He caught the eye of the Headmaster who nodded to him and raised his glass in silent salute. Harry smiled and responded in kind to the man who had made all this possible.

Not far from him Fred and George were noisily celebrating to the previous day's events. It felt great to be back in Hogwarts, especially when everyone was hero worshiping them for the role they had played. One little thing was bothering them though. Their eyes meet and the same thought was in their minds.

"Did you see anything? Even close?" asked Fred worriedly.

"No," replied George. "Nauseatingly nice kids all of them, much too well behaved."

"Disgusting."

"We can't let it stay that way."

"Let's look around once again. There's got to be someone."

The twins surveyed the other tables. They were searching for hardy souls to take up the immortal legacy of school pranksters. Legends such as they, or the famed Marauders, couldn't be expected to exist every years, but the tradition should at least be kept alive by a token presence.

Of course it would be best if a Gryffindor could be found to carry on that glorious mantle, but the current generation was very disappointing. Harry and Ginny would have made a good choice, but Hermione and Draco would hamper their efforts, and Harry probably wasn't all that interested anyway. _Kid's too much of a hero now_.

Fred's eye scanned the Hufflepuff table but there didn't seem to be any spark over there either. He almost looked over Slytherin, _that_ House had the worse reputation humor-wise, and only by chance did he spot the small black haired boy enchanting Vincent Crabbe's goblet. He immediately recognized the famous drip-glass spell, and sure enough, the big Slytherin was suddenly yelling as cold pumpkin juice flowed over his dress robe, evoking raucous laughter from Goyle who was sitting next to him.

Fred nudged his brother, and they nodded in appreciation as the small boy quickly regained his seat, and coolly resumed a conversation with the fair haired girl next to him. Vincent looked around for the culprit. Unable to find any, he shrugged and grabbed another glass.

"A _Slytherin_?" whispered George. "You've got to be kidding."

"He has the touch I tell you, and a first year too. We'll be able to shape him." He pulled his brother closer. "And it will be even better with that House. A proper response to the mushy fraternity that's coming over the rest of them."

Georges raised his left eyebrow and grew a sinister smile.

"Yes, I agree. Very fitting."

He straightened up and formally offered his hand to Fred.

"Let's pledge to corrupt him."

Fred shook it, and gave a firm approving nod.

"To the best of our ability."

"What's his name?"

"Parker I think. Actually Ginny mentioned him. She also said that he has a sister in Gryffindor."

"That's me."

They turned around, and came face to face with a small girl sporting the same thick black hair as the Slytherin boy. She was looking at them suspiciously.

"Who are you?" asked Fred pleasantly.

"I'm Alicia, he's Richard, and the girl next to him is Silena Malfoy," she continued.

The twins exchanged surprised looks, and then mischievous grins appeared on both their faces.

"Malfoy as in ..."

"... Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes. She hasn't been here long but she's nice. We've been showing her around the school." She looked at them with a puzzled expression. "What were you talking about? What do you mean about corrupting him?"

Fred's face turned angelical.

"It's a technical term," he answered. "We can explain of course, but it'll be best if your brother is present."

"Why don't you ask him to meet us in the second floor's east corridor, right after the feast," added George.

"And Silena can come along if she wants."

Alicia's immediate reaction was suspicion. She had heard several stories about these two, most of them outrageous.

"I'm not sure..." she began.

George sat up, frowned and looked down on her.

"Is that a Gryffindor speaking?" he said with scorn. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

She didn't flinch.

"I'm not afraid!" she shot back angrily. Both boys looked back at her with doubtful expressions until she relented. "Okay we'll come, but it better not be a trap."

The twins simultaneously placed their right hands over their hearts.

"Nothing like that."

"Quite the opposite in fact."

They looked at her with gravity and, after a moment, moved away to join a group of noisy revelers. Alicia was left wondering. _What's the opposite of a trap for those two?_

- - -

_Somewhere..._

The tiny spider was scurrying quickly on the large stone table. It wasn't really tiny, in fact it was big enough so that any spider fearing person would jump away real fast if he ever saw it on _his_ table, but this particular table was very big, at least six meters across, so the spider could be called tiny after all, and it was certainly nasty looking. It had long inverted V-shaped legs, and its skin was leathery black, adorned with bright yellow strikes.

After a few seconds of precautionary immobility, it resumed its progress along the smooth surface. It didn't have any specific objective, other than finding a good place for a new web. The flat surface wasn't very good for that, so the spider moved on, in search of a better spot. It stopped when it came upon one of several metallic stalks rising from the table.

The spider couldn't make out what it was, of course. It couldn't even see that there were seven such constructions. Silvery arcs developing into graceful twisting oval shapes, and regularly placed around the perimeter of the table. All that it could understand was that the stalks would make a nice framework for its purpose. It climbed along a stalk and started weaving. It had almost finished a third strand when a loud crackling sound was suddenly heard, and green fire exploded around each structure, destroying the unfinished web and incinerating the unfortunate insect.

The fires settled inside the ovals and provided enough lighting to bring the rest of the room into focus. It was big and mostly empty, which made it seem even bigger. It was now clear that the table was really more of a raised dais. Certainly there weren't any chairs. The flames quickly resolved into life sized human figures. Seven hooded wizards or witches were now plainly visible.

One of them spoke in a smooth easy voice. He was tall and he moved with the confident manner of one accustomed to being listened to. His dress was rather plain for a wizard, but there was no mistaking the quality of the cloth.

"The half-blood died. He failed one last time." His head moved toward the smaller figure of the copper-haired witch on his right. "As I expected." He paused as if expecting a response, but the addressed member didn't react.

"How did it happen?" asked another voice, a younger wizard, on the left. "Did Dumbledore finally destroy him?"

A third figure answered. That one was a very old man. His face was beardless and wrinkled, and he spoke with a rasping voice, but the words were very clear and precise.

"It is not clear. Our observer witnessed the assault on the school. It seemed to be going well, until they entered the castle. We could not follow, but after a while, a powerful community magic was sensed through the wards. The death event was unmistakable. Nothing else of significance has happened since."

"The Magenmagot has been informed of the destruction of the Dark Lord," added another wizard's voice, one with the deep sonority of a professional orator. His frame was large and imposing, and he was dressed in showy expensive robes. "All of Riddle's enchantments disappeared, and none of his Death Eaters remain. There is no doubt."

"I read the report," said a high pitched, elderly and feminine voice. "Probably some relic from the school Founders. It felt like _them_," she spat.

"The fool let himself enter into a trap," continued the old wizard. "He was obsessed with that boy and with the school. It proved his undoing."

"Well after all, he was only the half heir of _Slytherin_," added the woman, her voice dripping with scorn.

"What about the Prophecy?" asked a new woman's voice, middle aged this time. "And what do you make of that announcement concerning those students?"

The first speaker made a dismissing gesture.

"The announcement sounds like Ministry propaganda, and who knows what the Prophecy actually was? It does not matter. Riddle could have helped us, but his impatience was that of a child. Worse than that, it reeked of the muggle tainting in his blood."

"What should we do now?" asked the younger voice. He threw a quick glance at the lone figure who hadn't spoken yet.

"We will continue our long term plans," replied the first voice confidently. "Working indirectly as usual. That idiot of a minister can serve us again. It would not do to have him replaced by someone really powerful."

"Yes. He and several others were compromised by Riddle. It gives us a splendid opportunity," added the younger voice with audible enthusiasm.

"Exactly. His failure will be our gain after all."

The silent figure finally spoke up with a rich, seductive, feminine voice. It was little more than a murmur, but the words came out clearly, and the others listened attentively, almost with apprehension. It was the same witch who had been at Hogwarts on that fateful night.

"We need to understand what happened," she said. "Such magic has not been used in living memory. Surely we can't ignore that."

"Do you really think ..." started the middle aged woman.

"I know I made a mistake with Riddle!" she interrupted. "But we have actually lost nothing. Yet." Her figure turned to encompass the others. "For all his faults, he was a useful mask for our existence, but he is no more. If we move now, we risk being exposed."

A sobering silence followed her words.

"What do you suggest then?" asked the first voice. His tone was noticeably subdued from his last intervention.

"We watch, we listen, we try to understand," she replied firmly. "We can discuss action afterwards."

A long pause followed.

"All right," concluded the first voice. "We will heed your counsel."

The seven figures suddenly dissolved into bright flames which then diminished gradually, until the empty room was returned to darkness.

- - -

_Forbidden Forest._

Flitz woke up slowly, gradually aware of the small night sounds of the forest. It was still night but dawn would be coming soon. Remembering his lessons, he continued to breath regularly, eyes closed and unmoving until he was sure that nothing was amiss. The surrounding noise and smells were normal, and he could sense his friends near by, still sleeping. Another scent was discernable however, more pungent and distinctly different from that of the young foals lying next to him. He recognized it as Lyman's, the Herd-Mentor.

The young Centaur waited a little more to make sure that there was nothing else. Not that he expected any particular danger, after all he was in the center of the camp, and his instincts told him he could trust the adults in such circumstances.

He stood up on his four thin legs, snorted to shake the leaves clinging to his coat, and trotted toward the Herd-Mentor. He knew that the coming sun period would be a little special. He had been told what would happen, but of course he hadn't understood it. He was just five years old after all. At that age, and until the Day of First Stone, Centaurs were more animals than sentient beings. Their minds needed the Ritual to open and awaken the latent intelligence.

Lyman let the youngster come to him and mew a welcome. He had observed him wake up, and he had noted his caution with approval. Was he anyone but the scion of a renegade, there would have been no questions that the lad was more than worthy of being initiated. In the present case however, he would be held to a higher standard.

"Blessings to you Flitz. Today will be an important one for you," intoned Lyman.

Flitz's face broke into a happy childish smile. He liked the sound of speech. It was like a strange music for him. He could also feel the anticipation coming from his mentor. Bright as he was, his mentality was that of a smart dog or a dolphin. He would have jumped around joyfully, but he knew he should stand obediently whenever an adult was near.

The older Centaur looked up at the stars, and he checked once more that the time was indeed right for his charge. Flitz followed his gaze but there was nothing up there for him to hold his interest. Little points of light, that was all. He looked around again and spotted the shape of another adult standing some distance away. It was looking at them. He mewed again, as he had been taught when saluting another of his kind.

Lyman lowered his head, and recognized the other Centaur.

"Blessings to you Bane," he called out formally.

"Blessings to you Lyman," grunted Bane. "So, it is really his time? Is he ready?"

"Don't you trust me?"

"You I trust. His blood now, that's something else."

"You would deny him his chance?"

There was a hint of warning in the old Centaur's voice. Bane shook his mane in an angry gesture. He could see that the young Centaur was frightened of him, and probably wondered what he had done wrong.

_Nothing! There's nothing wrong with him, except that his father had the gall to abandon the Herd! And offer his services to those hated humans._

Flitz was the son of Firenze, whom Albus Dumbledore had persuaded to teach in his school, replacing the lame excuse for a seer who had been revoked. Bane knew that the old wizard had done many things for the Centaurs, and that he deserved their respect, but nothing could compensate for the betrayal of their secrets.

He had wanted the traitor killed, but the Herd had been divided. It still was. Most were outraged, but they didn't want to provoke the wizards, and they wouldn't accept that the foal be punished for his father's crime.

And to be truthful, neither could he condemn anyone to such a terrible fate.

"No," said Bane softly. He turned toward the young Centaur. "May the spirits of the Forest be with you, Flitz. Go, and come back as one of us."


	2. Chapter 1 Taking leave

_Harry and his friends pay some visits to their favorite teachers, with results ranging from good to puzzling and bad._

* * *

_**Part I - Vacation**_

**_Chapter 1 - Taking leave_**

_Hogwarts,_

In the Great Hall, the noise level had diminished considerably as everyone was feeling comfortably drowsy with the rich food and the late hour. Dumbledore stood up. Hushed commands to sit up and listen filled the room. He waited patiently until everyone was silent and attentive.

"My dear children, esteemed colleagues, cherished friends," he began. "Another term has ended and it was so rich in events that it feels like a full year. Extraordinary things have happened, and all of us were in the thick of it. We certainly deserve the vacation which is starting tomorrow."

Cheers broke out at those words. He smiled and raised his hands.

"I am immensely proud of you all," continued the Headmaster, "and so will be your parents, and indeed the rest of our community. You will return to your families and friends and bask in well deserved glory and praise, and then you will come back here."

He paused and took on a sober expression.

"This school will be then restored to its proper role, teaching young wizards and witches to take their proper place in our society. Less glamorous perhaps than what we just did, but no less vital in the long run, I assure you."

"When you return here, I want you all to put the drama behind you and apply yourselves to your studies. I hope you will agree with me in that we have had enough distractions for the rest of the year."

Several chuckles were heard here and there.

"That is all I have to say. Those of you who wish to stay up a little more may do so." He pursed his lips and exchanged a glance with professor McGonagall. "Maybe we can just agree to push back curfew by one hour." Cheers broke out. "But do remember to pack your affairs for tomorrow. As for myself I wish you all a most happy and felicitous Christmas."

Cheers and clapping erupted among the student tables. Several "MERRY CHRISTMAS PROFESSOR" could be heard above the din. Dumbledore bowed, and after a quick word with each teacher, left the Great Hall.

The school etiquette allowed them to move around once the Headmaster had finished his speech. Ginny took the occasion to rejoin the Slytherin table and sit next to Draco and Silena. Ron was even quicker going over to Luna. Harry and Hermione chuckled. He extended his hand across the table and she took it.

"Fancy a little walk outside?" he asked.

"Yes, but not for too long. In case you haven't noticed, we're in the winter and it's snowing outside." She indicated the ceiling where a few snowflakes could be seen flying in the wind.

He looked up at the false sky.

"It doesn't look that bad. I'm sure you can conjure up a warming spell. How about a cup of tea in Hagrid's hut afterwards? It's been a while since we visited him, and he always has a big fire roaring."

"All right."

They stood up. Harry caught Hagrid's attention and indicated what they wanted to do. The massive game keeper signaled his understanding by nodding vigorously, and they went to get their coats.

It was really snowing. Not too much, just enough to go with the holiday atmosphere. They took the long way along the side of the lake to get to Hagrid's hut, holding hands and walking in silence.

"What are you thinking of?" she asked after a while.

"Not much actually."

Hermione looked at him in surprise. The idea that one could think about nothing was strange to her. She was always thinking about something, and often about many things. Harry saw her expression and tried to explain.

"I feel like I'm born again," he added. "I mean ... it's the first evening when I don't have to wonder about how I will have to face Voldemort one day."

"You can think about your life now."

He stopped and took her face in his hands.

"About _our_ lives, yes!"

She looked into his eyes as he bent down to kiss her. That stopped her thinking. Both of them forgot about the rest of the world for a while.

"Harry Potter, I love you but I'm freezing to death."

"Ungrateful girl!" he mocked, and then he gathered her in his arms. "Come on. Hagrid must have the kettle ready by now."

They walked to his hut and knocked on the door. It opened to display a great frowning bearded face.

"T'is about time. Was wondering if I understood 'em signals correctly." They entered, and he hugged them with crushing force before dragging them inside to sit by the fireplace.

Soon mugs of hot drink were in their hands. Hermione snuggled against Harry and Hagrid's face took on a tender expression.

"The two of yeh reminds me so much o' James an' Lily," he said wishfully. "They sat on that very bench the day after their first date in Hogsmeade." He sighed feelingly. "Seems like only yesterday."

Harry said nothing. For once the reference to his parents didn't make him sad. He just gave Hagrid a gentle smile.

"When was that?" he asked softy, looking at Hermione.

"Recon t'was the last term o' their sixth years," replied Hagrid, reminiscing. "Yeah, that's about right. They were your age, just about."

He lowered his head and whispered mischievously.

"Yeh know they got married right after graduating too." He winked at them.

Hermione blushed and started to protest.

"It doesn't ..."

"Ha!" he interrupted her. "Yeh two'll be doing the same. No doubt 'bout it."

She turned toward Harry who was grinning from ear to ear. _Really this should stop! He may be right but I don't want to talk about it. It's too soon._

Harry winked at her and turned to face Hagrid.

"What about you and Madam Maxim?" he asked playfully.

"Er... Well t'is really somethin' else... Humph. Want some more tea? Kind o' hot here. Think I'll open the window a bit."

Harry was chuckling. Hermione joined him, taking comfort in watching the big man turn crimson.

"Come on Hagrid. You can tell us. I think it was her I saw the other day. Who was she visiting?"

Hagrid was trying to work the window pane while still holding the teapot and his mug, transferring them from one hand to the other several times. In the end he managed to stick the pot under his arm and opened the window. His eyes were darting everywhere except at his young friends.

"Humph. Yeah. Had ter see Dumbledore 'bout somethin'... Wonderful man Dumbledore. Always ready ter help others... Humph. Course, did have time for a quick cup o' tea an'... humph... a little walk in the woods."

His eyes fell on a picture of the massive Beauxbaton Headmistress waving at him and he suddenly stopped talking, lost in his thoughts. The wind pushed a cloud of snowflakes in the room and several settled on his hair and beard.

"Hagrid?" asked Harry.

Hagrid turned toward him, and absentmindedly drank a swallow from the teapot, while proposing them a refill from his mug. Hermione puffed with laughter.

"Hagrid. Maybe we should ask you the same question?" she added, glad to be able to turn the tables on him.

"Humph. Okay, point taken." he said gruffly.

He caught Harry's grin, and bent his head, trying to mask a large one of his own. A gust of wind banged the window pane wide open, and several more snowflakes went into his eye. He moved to close the opening.

"We... Er. We do fancy each other... hum, an' she asked him if I could go over 'ere ter help train their own gamekeepers." He straightened up. "They've got some very interestin' animals," he added quickly. "There's something called a Douard. Kind of a humanoid swamp thing, carnivorous too. Killed a couple of their horses, it seems." He was much more at ease discussing magical beasts.

"Hagrid that would be great!"

"Yeah. Well couldn't go while... hum _Voldemort_'s menace was still there. But now..." he looked at them sheepishly.

"Hagrid you've got to do it," said Hermione decisively.

"You think ser?" he said hopefully.

"Of course. I'm positive."

"And I fully agree," added Harry. "We'll come to visit you."

Hagrid's face brightened.

"Yer promise?"

"Absolutely."

They talked a little more, without teasing each other again about their respective romantic committements. After a while Harry got up.

"Hagrid, it was very pleasant talking to you. I'd love to stay more, but I want to say a last word to professor Dumbledore and professor Snape before they retire. We'll see you tomorrow at the station?"

"Course yer will! Give my regards ter the Headmaster."

Hermione rose up as well.

"Good night Hagrid," she said. "See you tomorrow".

"G'night my friends."

Outside it was even colder than before, especially after having stayed so long next to Hagrid's fire. Hermione shivered and quickly cast a new warming spell.

"Race you to the castle?" he challenged.

She didn't answer him, and she started running as fast as she could. He chuckled and went after her. They didn't have very long to go, but he was in much better shape. He caught her easily and pulled her along. They entered the building panting and laughing.

"Can I come with you to see Dumbledore?" she asked.

"Of course. And to see Severus as well if you want. Draco will be with us."

"No thanks. I think I'll take the occasion to see McGonagall."

"Well. To each his own," he teased. "Meet you back in the hall in half an hour?"

"Okay."

They separated and he walked to the Slytherin table to look for Draco. He found him talking pleasantly with some students, one arm around Ginny's waist. They looked up when he came close.

"Shall we go?" asked Draco.

Harry nodded. Ginny whispered a few words in her boyfriend's ear. He nodded and stood up.

The two boys walked silently toward the dungeons. They'd agreed before the feast to arrange a quiet moment with the potion master. Both felt that it was a fitting conclusion to the particular period which had just ended. Things would be different after the vacations. The relationships between teachers and students would return to a necessary formality, but tonight they were still members of the community of fighters who had defeated Voldemort.

Severus Snape answered pleasantly when they knocked on the door to his office and private quarters. He saw them come in and permitted himself a very discrete smile. These two now meant a lot to him, but he was still struggling to balance the mixture of affection and responsibility that he felt toward them, and this was further complicated by his need to remain the perfect teacher and Head of House.

_It's actually easier to be with them in private now that they've proved themselves._

"Thank you for seeing us, sir," said Draco.

"My pleasure. Would you care for refreshments?" He gestured toward a group of chairs next to a small cabinet filled with glasses and decanters.

"Thank you, sir. Something not too strong," answered Harry, remembering Remus' story of the last time Snape had offered him a drink.

"Afraid you can't handle it?" taunted Draco.

Harry glared, and then his mischievous grin came back.

"I'm willing to challenge you on that but perhaps not tonight." He turned toward the professor. "A butterbeer would be fine, sir."

Snape snorted and passed him a bottle. Draco accepted a shot glass of fire whiskey. They raised their drinks in toast. For a moment they were silent, each waiting for the other to say something. Finally Draco felt both their eyes on him. He was after all the youngest.

"To Salazar Slytherin!" he said.

"To the Four Founders!" added Harry.

"To Hogwarts," finished Snape.

They smiled and then drank together. Harry thought he heard a very faint cough coming from Draco. When he looked, it seemed that his friend's face was a little redder than before. Maybe it was just the lighting.

Severus didn't say anything to embarrass the boy. He controlled his face, keeping the smile inside.

"I am very glad to see you both tonight," he began, "and I wish to express my sincere congratulations, to you and your friends, for the fine work you have done this term."

He marked a pause.

"I expect no less in the future, and I think you realize that things will be somewhat ... different."

Harry nodded quietly.

"Yes sir," answered Draco for both of them. "We do."

"The next stage of the Order's work will be mostly political," continued Snape. "So you will not be able to do much until you have finished your studies." He nodded to Draco. "I know of your ambitions. I will help you, but you will need to be patient."

Draco didn't answer directly. Harry saw him twist his lips in resignation, and he could sense some disappointment. Other than that, he himself was a little surprised.

_He never said anything about his plans. At least not to me._

The potion master turned toward him.

"I do not know what you wish to do, Harry, but of course you can count on my assistance as well."

"Thank you, sir. I'm not really sure of anything myself. It was difficult to imagine anything beyond ..." he gestured. _Beyond that dammed prophecy. Am I glad that's over._

"Right now I just want to have some fun in London." He wondered what the man would be doing during the holidays. "We would be honored to have you visit us, sir."

Snape was touched.

"Thank you, but the Headmaster has suggested that the faculty stay inside these walls for the vacation."

The two boys nodded. They could guess at the reason for it. The pressure had been high on the teachers as well, and they would need a quiet time together.

Harry thought of something and flashed his devilish grin.

"Can I ask you a private favor sir?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. _That smile! What is he going to pull on me now?_

"You can," he said tersely, bracing himself for the worst.

"Would it be possible to have some of that hangover cure potion that you gave to Remus this summer?"

Snape looked at him silently for a moment as he considered the request. It was not strictly a secret. Most potion masters developed similar brews, although he prided himself on having one of the best. He could imagine why they would want it. Whatever else, he had been young once. He only hesitated upon one thing. Giving them the stuff, or the actual knowledge of how to produce it.

His teaching instincts won out, and a cold smile broke out on his face.

He took out his wand and gestured with a flourish. "_Membrana Flagro!_" Two pieces of parchment materialized, and letters of fire raced on their surfaces, leaving neat lines of text. When the spell was finished, the papers gracefully glided toward Harry's and Draco's hand.

"You will find here the proper instructions and ingredients for all that we sampled that evening. You may consider this extra homework. Be sure to bring back a sample for grading and a two feet essay on each, ah, _potion_."

Harry's eyes grew large. He'd never expected to have the actual recipe, and also for the 'improved' drink as well. He murmured his thanks to the teacher who raised a warning finger.

"I will however ask you to keep this a secret." He narrowed his eyes. "Especially from some of your commercial minded friends." He meant the Weasley twins of course.

"Of course, sir. Just among the six of us?"

Snape nodded. The corner of his mouth formed a challenging smirk, tempered by amusement in his eyes.

"If done properly these will procure you an enjoyable moment, otherwise ... not. I wish you both a very pleasant Christmas."

They stood up. Even Draco had a wide grin of anticipation on his face.

"Thank you sir, much the same to you."

Draco bowed in a respectful gesture. Harry hesitated and took a step forward, extended his hand and pressed his godfather's arm fleetingly. He ignored the older wizard's grimace of embarrassment. Not for the first time, he wished the man would open up a little more. He knew there was nothing personal in it, but it still bothered him a little.

Both boys left the room. As they retraced their route, Harry wondered if it was something he should discuss with his friend. He decided not to because he knew it was also part of the Slytherin attitude. Even Draco was reticent to discuss _personal_ feelings. It made him wonder how he and Ginny got along in private. Ginny was pure fire, and he was sure that she couldn't possibly be satisfied with the same cold attitude Draco showed to the rest of the world. He gave it up and his thoughts returned to Severus' cryptic offer of help.

"Can you discuss what you are planning to do?" he asked.

Draco flashed a feral grin.

"Politics. I want to put some spine into the way the Ministry works."

Harry chuckled.

"Knowing you, you must be planning to end up as Minister of Magic."

"Of course." He stopped and looked at Harry guardedly. "What do you think?" _You better not want the same thing._

Harry looked back calmly.

"It's fine with me. I know I'll never want that job, neither does Hermione."

Draco was relieved.

"What about Ron?" There was no question about Luna.

"I don't know. I'd be surprised if he would." He marked a pause. "Of course Percy's another matter."

Draco shrugged it off.

"I don't see Percy as competition. He may be a good civil servant but he's got no political sense. He could only become Minister by default."

"You've given this some thought."

"Yes." He paused. "Can we discuss it later?"

"Sure."

- - -

After leaving Harry, Hermione had spent some time with her friends. Luna had indicated that she was going to see Firenze. The Centaur was pretty much alone at the teacher table. He usually talked with Hagrid, but the big man was still in his hut. Since it seemed to be the evening for it, Hermione decided to go and pay her respects to professor McGonagall. The Transfiguration teacher had left the hall a while ago. _She's probably gone to her office. _She was often working late.

The knock on her door was answered by a terse invitation to enter. Minerva McGonagall's expression softened when she saw who her visitor was.

"Good evening Miss Granger. What can I do for you?" she asked pleasantly.

"Good evening professor. I just wanted to have a few words with you. I hope I'm not disturbing anything."

"Not at all. There's nothing urgent, and I have more than two weeks to finish these grades."

She waved her wand and murmured "_Disponere Notae_." The papers and notes on her desk were put away into neat little stacks. Hermione made a note to research the spell later. It looked like a useful one. Of course she could have asked the professor, but it would be more interesting to find out about it on her own.

"Please sit down. Can I offer you some herb tea?" she proposed, indicating the guest chair in front of her.

"Yes please." Hermione sat down and accepted a steaming cup of a verbena smelling brew. "I suppose that the faculty will be glad to have some quiet time to settle down."

McGonagall breathed a long sigh.

"We certainly will. A lot of us are exhausted, and not only by the past days." She looked around the office. "The last _years_ have been a heavy load. Most of it for the Headmaster, especially considering his age."

"But it's over now isn't it?"

"Yes at least as far as Voldemort and his followers are concerned, and there isn't any other identified menace - for now."

"Do you think another Dark Wizard could appear soon?" Hermione was alarmed. _Can't we have a little peace? Just a few years of normal life?_

McGonagall shook her head and gave her a reassuring smile.

"No. I don't think so, but you've talked about this with the Headmaster, and you've seen Fudge." She snorted in disgust. "So you have an idea of the problems of our world."

"Yes we've discussed this, and how we should work on our association project," said Hermione in her serious voice. "Now it's become the most important thing to do. I'm planning on putting a lot of energy in that, after my studies of course," she added quickly.

The older woman considered the young student for a moment. Pride and affection showed in her eyes, mixed with something else.

_So decisive and well meaning. I was like her once, long ago. I was going to solve all problems, and were did that leave me?_

"Hermione," she said in a soft and gentle voice, using her first name, which she had never done before, "there are several things I've wanted to say to you. How proud I am of your accomplishments, how happy you've made me as a teacher, guidance to help you in your projects, career suggestions. Many of those things are in my mind." She held the girl's attention in her eyes.

"But there is one thing which I believe is the most important of all, and which I want you to remember even if you forget everything else."

She paused so Hermione would really understand how much she cared about this, and she could see that the girl was hanging on her words.

"Make your life fun."

Hermione's mouth fell open. It was the last thing she expected from the strict professor.

"Whatever happens," continued McGonagall, "however much you may feel the need to help others, or make the world a better place, you should never sacrifice your happiness for it."

Hermione waited for more, but the teacher stayed silent.

"That's the most important thing?" she asked incredulously.

"For someone like you, yes it is." She showed a sad smile. "If you don't do it, you risk becoming serious and dour ... like me."

"There's nothing wrong with you! You're a brilliant teacher, everyone respects you."

McGonagall tried to keep self pity out of her voice.

"That may be true, but it doesn't make for a fulfilled life." She raised her hand. "I'm not complaining, and I do like my work here, but if I had the chance, I would have done some things differently."

Her eyes turned dreamy.

"It wouldn't have changed a lot for the world, but for me it could have," she whispered.

She looked back at the girl.

"I see in you the same ambition and sense of duty that I had myself. It's a good thing but don't let it run your life."

Hermione blinked. She was trying to understand.

"Boys are less susceptible," the teacher continued. "Most of the pranksters here are boys, as you've no doubt noticed. Some of the worst end up as very great wizards, because they can balance terrible decisions with their sense of fun and games. We actually tolerate a lot of mischief among some students because of this."

Hermione was very surprised at that, and then she thought about Harry's father and the Marauders. Everyone was sure that James would have been a remarkable wizard if he had lived.

A thought occurred to her.

"Was professor Dumbledore...?"

McGonagall's nodded with an amused smile.

"Oh yes. Of course, very few people remember it, but he was quite a terror. You can still see traces of that in him."

"And it helps him to go on?" said Hermione carefully. This was definitively something which she would have to think about.

McGonagall's nodded again.

"I think so. I really believe that he recharges his energy with the little joys he finds here and there, and of course, it's one of his reasons for staying on as headmaster."

She stood up.

"We'll have other occasions to talk Miss Granger. Please do not brood too much about what I said, but do think about it."

"I will," answered Hermione. "Seriously," she completed with a grin. McGonagall chuckled. "I wish you a very nice Christmas professor."

"Thank you my dear. I wish you the same, to you, to Harry and to your friends."

Hermione smiled at the old teacher. She debated about how to say goodbye, but somehow a hug or a handclasp didn't seem the proper thing to do. She bowed her head in respect and left the room.

- - -

Luna walked toward the back of the hall, and caught Firenze's eyes as he was leaving. She raised her hand to indicate she wanted to see him. He stopped and waited for her.

"Good evening Miss Lovegood," said the Centaur.

"Good evening professor. I was wondering if I could have a moment with you."

"Certainly. Shall we move to my classroom?"

Luna followed him. For obvious reasons, Firenze kept himself to the lower floors of the school. Dumbledore had given him the use of several rooms for classes, office and living quarters. Going inside was like entering into a forest, with a small clearing serving as classroom.

Everyone had a favorite teacher, but serious reciprocal relations were usually reserved for older students, and not too many of those. Luna had not been interested in any of the staff until Firenze replaced Trelawney as divination professor. The Centaur had a completely different style which appealed a lot to her, although it left most students rather perplexed.

Like her, he was very open minded about esoteric subjects which most people quickly classed as unreasonable. One of the attitudes they shared was accepting the existence of _other _realities. Things not immediately visible, but which could be perceived in special circumstances. He wasn't an Empath, not exactly, but he was able to detect the emotional stateof others.

Firenze had real dispositions as a teacher, although they were hampered by the tremendous differences between the two species. He didn't go out of way to convince his classes of his beliefs. He had several times made it plain that he didn't expect the students to learn any specific techniques, or knowledge. He simply tried to open their minds and expected failure even for that limited objective. He had been pleasantly surprised to find in Luna someone receptive to his teachings.

Since the beginning of the year they had grown closer, and sometimes he felt that she was the only one actually listening. Some classes were almost like private lessons. He had also helped the six of them in their meditation exercises, and in that respect he shared a part of the previous day's success.

"What is on your mind?" he asked pleasantly.

"I was wondering how you felt about what was done, and what will happen now."

He shrugged. A battle between wizards had been fought, and won by those of the school. He would not have wished for a different outcome, but it reminded him of other battles.

"The Evil One is gone and that is not a bad thing, but I do not see it as such an important event. The Universe goes on."

"You don't seem very concerned," she said with some surprise.

"He wasn't part of _my_ world."

"Surely if he had succeeded the Centaurs would have suffered?" she countered, frowning.

All of Voldemort's supporters had in common a deep aversion for semi human creatures. Firenze should rejoice in their victory, instead she was sensing some very odd emotions from him, mostly indifference but also, and that was strange, a hint of anger.

"Not really. He could always kill some of us, but the Forest would have given us a stronger protection than he could break."

Luna looked up at that. Like everyone else, she hadn't given much thought to the Forbidden Forest, aside from considering it as a place filled with dangerous animals.

"Ron told me that Harry had found Voldemort in the Forest during their first year, and that you had saved him."

"So I did. He was a child, and we have special rules concerning those. I respect them, even if other Centaurs don't."

"Thank you for that. I know that they don't approve of you coming here to teach us."

Firenze grunted. He turned away to look at the false trees around them. The sense of anger was stronger. She couldn't understand why he should react like that. She did her best to ignore it. If she'd known better, she would have changed the topic of their conversation, but she was fascinated, and for once her guard was down.

_What kind of powers can be found in the Forest?_

"When Voldemort attacked us yesterday," she continued, "he actually came through the Forest, or at least above it. Couldn't the Centaurs have stopped him?"

Firenze turned a furious glare at her. After what the humans had done to his people, a witch would have the gall to ask that?

"HOW DARE YOU SUGGEST SUCH A THING?"

Despite the warnings, she was taken aback at the fury in his voice, and by the raging emotions she sensed. It was as if she had uttered the crassest insult to him. She couldn't understand why he would think that. _Merlin! What did I do?_

"Sir..."

"GET OUT!"

He moved toward her, and she recoiled toward the door, terrified. Her mind raced in panic. She had clearly made a terrible mistake. _I've got to clear this up._

She lowered her head in humility and tried to project her feelings to him.

"Sir, if I've offended you I apologize humbly. I didn't mean anything disrespectful."

Firenze was almost to the point of kicking her out of the room. He felt terribly insulted and shocked by what she had said. Perhaps his brethren were right after all. Nothing good could be expected from wizards.

_And to think that I almost found her worthy of respect._

He stepped toward the girl and made ready to shove her roughly out of the room, but she was just standing there, submissive. Out of curiosity he scanned her aura.

_She is hurt and sincerely concerned. Why?_

He willed himself to control his anger. Calm returned and he wondered. _Is it possible that she doesn't understand?_

She had to know. All wizards must. It was the basis of their history after all. He didn't know much about how they lived, but surely every child would be taught what had happened.

He decided to give her one last chance.

"Miss Lovegood," he said tersely. "Plainly something is wrong here. I am willing to offer you a chance at truthfulness. Tell me what you know of the history between our peoples."

She looked up, her eyes misty with forming tears.

"I only know that you live in the Forest, and that don't mix with humans. I know that there is enmity between our communities, but I don't know the reason."

"And don't you know what the Forest really means to us?" His voice was biting and he exerted all his powers to detect any lies or omissions. His way was different from Legimency, but it could be very effective.

"No, I don't."

_She speaks the truth. That explains it. _He groaned._ Stupid humans! What's the use of having a school such as this, and to end up with so much ignorance?_

He couldn't fathom what the reason was. In a rare moment of objectivity, he admitted to himself that he had as much trouble understanding them as they did his own kind. He let out a deep breath.

"I believe you, and because of this I will excuse what was said." He looked at her severely. "But this is still a glaring failure in your education." His voice was devoid of his previous warmth toward her. "I will speak with the Headmaster, and I hope that you will endeavor to learn the basic facts about this matter."

She nodded weakly. The unexpected hostility had unsettled her badly. She usually protected herself against the mental aggressions of others, but this time she had relaxed her guard, and she had been hurt. He sensed some of her pain, and he of all people knew how hard it was to be rejected.

"I'm sorry about this Miss Lovegood," he added in a more gentle voice. "But it is a very sensitive subject and we shouldn't talk again until you have learned the truth."

"Yes, professor," she said weakly. "I will not disturb you anymore. P- please accept my apologies again."

She stood up and walked dejectedly toward the door. Her hand was trembling as she reached for the doorknob.

"Miss Lovegood."

"Yes professor?"

He managed a kinder expression.

"May you have a pleasant holiday."

She brightened a little.

"Thank you professor. Merry Christmas to you also."

She turned and left the room. Ron was waiting for her, laughing and talking with Ginny. He frowned when he saw her face.

"Hey Luna! What happened?" He took her in his arms. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder. Slowly she opened her mind and basked in his affectionate thoughts. It soothed her a little.

"It's all right. Just a bit of misunderstanding." She let out a shuddering breath. "Please don't ask me anything. I'll tell you about it later."

"Are you really okay?" asked Ginny, concerned.

"Yes." She looked around. Most of the students had left. "Where are the others?"

"They'll be joining us in a moment," answered Ron. "Professor Dumbledore said that he wanted to see us all in his office, and we've agreed to meet here."

Ginny had gone back to one of the tables and was coming back with a drink for Luna. Ron was caressing her hair gently, and she appeared to be calming down. She drained the glass and smiled her thanks. Brother and sister exchanged a glance.

_What happened in there?_

Presently Harry, Draco and Hermione arrived. The boys looked happy enough but Hermione seemed pensive and almost sad. Ron and Ginny looked at each other once again.

_I wonder if it's a good idea to call on more teachers tonight._

"Are you ready?" called Harry. They all nodded and followed him toward the Headmaster's office.


	3. Chapter 2 New beginnings

_Fred and George begin the initiation of their successors, the Six have a sobering discussion with the Headmaster and a young Centaur is initiated into the Herd.

* * *

_

**_Chapter 2 – New beginnings_**

_Hogwarts, late evening_

Fred and George were waiting, comfortably installed in one of their favorite hiding place. This particular location gave an observer a very broad view of one stairway and two strategic corridors, while a large medieval armor and several pieces of furniture provided the means for efficient camouflage. Over the years Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat, had also been discouraged from exploring the recess, through the use of several nasty traps and surprises.

They spotted Alicia, Richard and Silena climbing the stairs carefully and silently. Fred called out a low whistle when the three youngsters came in range.

"Psst! Over here," he whispered as he exposed himself outside of the permanent shadow spell. To the three children it was as if his head had suddenly appeared out of the void.

Silena jumped, and Alicia looked surprised, but Richard only raised an eyebrow and formed a smile.

"Hey. Way cool," he called.

Fred beckoned them to join him and his brother. After some twisting and struggling, they all sat down inside a surprisingly large area behind a big cupboard. Nobody would have suspected that five people could fit in that place, but that was precisely the point.

"Good evening Silena, Richard," said Fred pleasantly.

"Nice touch with the drip glass," added George.

Richard grinned. He was rather proud of it himself.

"Of course that big lump was an easy target," continued Fred, negligently brushing some breadcrumbs from his lap.

"But we think that you show some promise..."

"... and we've decided that you can be our successors..."

"... the latest in a long and proud tradition..."

"...so we offer our help..."

"...and our not so humble expertise in these matters."

They marked a pause. The young students' eyes stopped mercifully from jumping from one to the other. A conversation with the Weasley twins was always a little hard on the unwary.

It was Alicia who spoke for them.

"What do you mean, your successors?"

Fred explained it to them in a more explicit manner. They were still kids after all.

"There is a very old tradition of school pranks here in Hogwarts. We understand that this also exists to a minor extend in some muggle schools." He waited for confirmation and continued when Richard nodded.

"In this place, it can go a long way. There are always a few students who play tricks on their fellows but every now and then a real talent emerges, usually as a team of several. The real test is to play pranks on teachers, or on entire Houses."

"In the school lexicon these teams are called Raiders, or Marauders, or some such names. By tradition, when they finish, they leave behind tools and secrets for the next generation."

"But isn't it again the rules?" asked Silena. _Or even dangerous?_

"Of course it is. That's the whole point," answered George. "The limit is not to get expelled." Genuine fright showed in their eyes. "But you have to do something really bad for that to happen."

"And detention is often an opportunity for more mischief," added Fred. "With luck you can get to look around a teacher's office. We found a lot of stuff that way."

Alicia and Silena looked dubious. Still the idea had some merit.

George had more arguments for them.

"One important secret we found out is that most of the Headmasters are former pranksters. We know it because we've looked at the student records, and they're often marked as having spent a lot of time in detention for breaking curfew."

"And one or two times Dumbledore caught us in ... improper situations, and he didn't say a word."

"Of course, he won't defend you if you're caught by Filch or one of the teachers."

Fred had a better point to make.

"The most important thing is that it's _fun_, and that you'll learn tons of useful magic. We'll just help you get started."

The three students looked at each other. They were grinning and it was clear what their decision would be. Richard spelled it out.

"Deal."

Fred and George ceremoniously shook hands with each of them.

Silena had a more practical question.

"How are you going to help us?"

"We'll give you hints," said Fred. "Of course we won't tell you everything we know, it would be much too easy, but we've already hidden some nice gadgets in various places in the school. If you can find them they're yours, and they will help you discover more stuff."

He handed them a sealed letter.

"This is your first hint. You won't be able to open it until tomorrow. You'll have the entire vacation to think about it. When you've solved the riddle, owl us the answer and we'll give you another one."

"In the meanwhile you can use this place. It's well hidden and fully sound-proofed."

Richard took the letter.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it." He grinned maliciously. "Now, since it's past curfew, you'll just have to get back to your rooms without getting caught. You're not in the same House, so it's going to be a little more complicated than for us."

"But we know you'll handle it all right," added George with a wink.

Richard swallowed. He had never broken curfew before. Alicia grinned at the challenge.

Georges took a peek in the corridor and declared the way to be clear. They came out and started toward their quarters. At one point Fred stopped them.

"Shh. Filch always makes his first rounds in the south corridor at that time," he whispered. He led them to a side room where they waited. "One of your first order of business will be to make a time map of his routine. It's not too difficult because it never changes."

"So you could tell us?" asked Richard.

"Sure, but it will be a good exercise for you." He checked his watch. "Okay, he should be gone now."

They resumed their progress and came to the point were they had to separate. Up toward Gryffindor tower for Alicia and down to the Slytherin dungeons for the others.

"We'll leave you there. Good luck."

"Thanks. Good night."

"One more thing," added George. "You'll have to think of a name. Choose a good one."

"Er, yeah."

Fred considered them with a critical eye. Silena was small and delicate, and she had the long fair hair of the Malfoy line. He compared it with the sturdy forms of the Parkers, and their short black curls.

"There's three of you, but up to now, it was Harry, Hermione and Ron who were called the trio. You could be the piano."

The younger children looked back with annoyance. It was plain that he was mocking them,

"I don't understand," said Alice finally.

"Two black for one white."

It took them a few seconds to get it, and then Richard shook his head in disgust. The twins roared in laugher and left them to go outside the castle. They would have to walk to somewhere they could Disapparate from. Once alone, the younger students looked at each other.

"Whoa. It's really something," whispered Richard, fingering the letter.

"We'll talk about it in the train tomorrow," said Alicia firmly. "For now we should go back quickly."

"Okay. Good night."

"Good night too."

They separated and made their way toward their respective quarters. Alicia was euphoric with anticipation. Hogwarts was a nice enough school, but she'd been a little disappointed about the available activities outside of studying. She'd envied Hermione for having had so many adventures with her friends. Well, until the time she and Ginny had been kidnapped and had horrible things done to them. But now that Voldemort was dead there wouldn't be any more danger, wouldn't there? Working as a team with her brother and Silena would be nice. She arrived in front of the Fat Lady without any trouble and murmured the password. Thankfully nobody noticed her coming in, and she went quickly up to the girls' dormitory.

Silena and Richard had the advantage, and the inconvenient, of not being alone. They whispered excitedly about what they would be able to do, and what the twins might have prepared for them. Engrossed in their discussion, they almost bumped into Mrs. Norris, and only spotted her at the last minute. Unfortunately, she saw them as well and signaled their illegal presence by a glaring hiss. They didn't waste any time and ran desperately toward the Slytherin quarters, entering the safe haven only seconds before Filch could see them.

"Nasty beast!" spat Silena.

Richard thought so too, but he didn't plan to leave it as that. If that cat wanted to play rough with them he was only ready to oblige. He patted the large envelop he had hidden in his robes. Fred and George had said that they could find tools to help them. He couldn't imagine that they hadn't found a way to handle a simple cat.

"We'll get even with her one day," he said. "She's going to learn that she'd better leave us alone."

Silena looked up with admiration.

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know yet, but you can be sure that I'm going to find a way." He saw that the common room was nearly deserted. "We'd better turn in. Good night."

"Good night."

- - -

Harry and his friend arrived in front of the Headmaster's office.

"Turkish Delight," said Ginny. The passage opened, and they went inside. Harry was getting used to the place, but for Ginny and Luna, it was their first occasion to visit that inner sanctum, and they were suitably impressed.

Professor Dumbledore was standing behind his desk, intent upon a very wide and flat drawer which he had pulled from a side cabinet.

"Come in, come in," he called. "I was just ordering the latest additions."

They approached, and saw with some surprise that the Headmaster was arranging his Chocolate Card collection. He had of course a great number of them. Some cards were obviously antiques and protected with shimmering shields. Ron was fascinated.

"Whoa, professor. This must be one of the finest."

Dumbledore's eyes lit up with an almost juvenile pride.

"Well, I do have some nice specimen, collectors all of them. This one for instance is the oldest known of a Hogwarts Founder."

He gestured toward an incredibly detailed picture of Godric Gryffindor, proudly standing in regal robes with his sword. It was painted on fine wood, and in the background, the school castle was only half built. Draco frowned, until he saw that there was also one for Salazar Slytherin.

Of course, their six new cards were present too. They grinned at each other.

"It is always a special occasion when I'm able to add something to this little set," Dumbledore beamed at them. "Some may smile at such a hobby, but it is far from trivial," he added seriously as he gestured for them to take place into the six identical chairs which had just materialized behind them.

"There are very few living wizards who rate this honor, and because of that they cannot be dismissed or ignored easily. This may not matter much in the short term, but someday it may help you in our community."

Hermione had been thinking about that.

"Who decides about new entries? Did you have a say in this, sir?"

The Headmaster nodded.

"Well I did put in a strong suggestion. There is a committee, chaired by the Wizengamot, and I did speak with them. They had planned for Harry to have a card, but I convinced them to make one for each of you. It was after all a group effort."

"But I would bet you had another reason," she insisted.

He nodded again, this time with a twinkle of amusement.

"Astute of you to guess that. Yes I did, because _after you will have graduated_," he held their gaze for a moment, and the grimaces they showed proved that he was right in stressing this condition. "I will expect all of you to work toward what was our secondary goal, and which now becomes our priority. Healing the fractures of the magical community. The fame and curiosity coming with the cards will help you get the attention of the other witches and wizards."

"But that's the role of our association," protested Hermione. "So we should be working on that now."

"And we've already started talking to other people," added Harry. "We can't just stop everything."

"Well," replied Dumbledore, clearly reticent. "You can of course spend some of your free time on this. You may meet some people during your vacation, and I expect that you'll be asked to testify to the Ministry, but during the school year I am afraid that there is very little that you will be able to do. Your education has already been disrupted enough as it is."

Looking at Hermione's closed face, and from the expressions on the others, he knew that he needed to argue further. He had reported to the High Court today. After the surprise and the general expression of relief, he had also detected some very disquieting undercurrents. The war was over and politics was taking over.

"We have to move carefully," he continued. "Voldemort is gone, and one consequence is that other forces will replace his influence. Forces which are not as universally feared and hated as he was, and therefore which can be more difficult to confront."

"You mean like people who support pure-blood supremacy," said Hermione with loathing.

"Exactly. And if you go against them while you are still students, they will try to dismiss you as immature youngsters who 'got lucky' with Voldemort. I do not wish for that to happen."

"People are so stupid!" exclaimed Ginny.

"People are the same since immemorial times," replied Dumbledore gently. "All it means is that we need to work differently." He paused. "Do you understand my position?"

"We won't be on the front line anymore," said Harry thoughtfully. "We'll just be supportive of you and the others."

"Only for a time," corrected Dumbledore. "And you can still do a lot inside the school as it is, being role models for the students. Then later you can continue that work as ... charmers."

"Charmers?"

"Yes. I and others will be counting on you to create goodwill among the magical community, and unite those who are not hopelessly corrupted. The aim is to assemble a majority who will then help push through needed changes in the Ministry, and correct the prejudices of our society."

Luna raised her head.

"Professor, there's something I want to ask you about that."

"I know," he said soothingly. "Professor Firenze talked to me, and I must apologize to you for not anticipating what happened." He sighed. "There is much to do, and we truly didn't have time for everything, but a valid point has been raised."

He stood up and turned to one of his bookshelves. He selected a volume. The cover looked to have been scorched.

"This is one of the few remaining books covering that subject. Most others have been destroyed." The Headmaster looked at the cover with discomfort, then he turned and offered it to Luna. "It will give you some knowledge of very sad and forgotten story. Afterwards, you will understand professor Firenze's reaction a little better. You should all read it actually."

"I would have liked it to be one the subjects of History of Magic but I was overruled by the council. It is a very touchy subject. I will ask you to keep the book hidden and not to talk about it to anyone without my permission."

Ron looked dubious.

"Should we really take it with us in that case?" he asked. Hermione threw him a dark look. She wanted to read that book.

"There is no _law_ against knowing these things, but if they were bandied about, then it would certainly cause a lot of trouble. Just be discrete."

He looked at all of them in turn.

"What I said at the feast applies to all of the students, including you. I am sure you understand." Disappointment was evident on their faces but they nodded one after the other. He continued. "Life is a succession of crisis, but in between, there are periods of peace. Therefore, until the next crisis, I hope that you can return to studying and living peacefully. Whatever you may think, it will not be a waste of time."

"Go now my children, with my blessings."

- - -

_Forbidden Forest,_

The small troop was making its way through the forest. The Herd Mentor was in front, followed by Flitz and three female Centaurs. It was the minimum number to represent the Herd. Lyman noted with sadness that it was another mark of the dismay caused by Firenze's decision.

Unaware of this, the young Centaur had been at first very excited by the unusual activity. After waking up he had been given a nourishing gruel of grain and aromatic spices. It had keyed him up and made him begin the journey full of energy, barely able to limit his pace to that of the adults who had started at a more measured pace. They knew how far their destination really was. It didn't fail. After less than an hour the foal had discovered that trotting in the dark forest was hard work, and not as fun as he imagined. He was beginning to tire, but he made an effort to keep up with the group.

At one point the trail opened into a large space. They stopped when they saw the Unicorn. It stood still, a striking figure with its shiny white coat which seemed to light up the clearing. Lyman's spirits lifted. He had seen a positive sign in the stars the previous evening, but he hadn't been able to interpret it, and he had been afraid to hope for anything like this.

The Unicorn wasn't often there for First Stone, but when he was, it was always a good omen. The Herd Mentor was especially glad because the youngster certainly deserved a break, after his months of quasi ostracism. The ritual wasn't always successful, and failure was a dreadful thing. The adult grew up with a limited intelligence but more important, he lacked the Sight. It was a terrible handicap, but it never happened when a Pure One was present.

The Centaurs came to a stop, forming an arc before the revered being, Flitz in the middle. The adults bowed respectfully and the young foal mewed out a greeting. He'd never seen one of the beautiful creatures so close, and he looked on with fascination.

The Unicorn didn't say anything, but suddenly crystal clear thoughts and precise emotions filled their minds. The emanations were friendly but after the long silent march, the impression was almost painful. Like having a bright light flare up from darkness.

_I am Laurell._

To wizards, Centaurs were terse and often spoke in obscure riddles, but compared to Unicorns they were babbling intellectuals. The Pure Ones lived in the fantastic world of their minds and rarely concerned themselves with other creatures, although they had a special affinity for their four legged cousins. The relationship between the two species was as long as history.

Flitz was in awe. The contact with the Unicorn's mind was the most extraordinary thing he had ever experienced. It was communication at a most basic level. There weren't any abstract concepts to understand, like in the training the Herd Mentor gave him. He sensed curiosity, reassurance and the promise of a coming wonders.

The group resumed its journey with Laurell now leading them. Time passed and they left the forest for an open grassland illuminated by the imminent dawn. They kept moving, and after a while the shape of ruins was visible in the distance. Flitz supposed it was their destination. Certainly the other Centaurs were suddenly more active, as if they too expected their goal to be near.

Upon reaching the ruins, they followed a circuitous route to enter the actual structures. Not much remained of the outer wall, but the central building was still standing. They ignored it and made for a secondary courtyard. Everything around them spoke of very old age, with stone surfaces visibly weathered by the wind and rain, and covered in wines. The impression was that of centuries of neglect. Wisps of morning fog hid most details, but on the opposite wall of the courtyard, a large opening was suddenly visible, leading into another, half buried, building. Going inside, they finally entered a very large darkened space. One of the Centaurs lit a lamp, weakly illuminating what was shown to be a large room. In the center they could see a cream colored circular area. On it, alongside the periphery, stood five tall and wide pillars of black stone.

The stone circle and the pillars began to glow. The light slowly gaining in strength as they came closer. After a moment Flitz heard a distinct humming sound, like a deep bass note held indefinitely. The Unicorn trotted directly inside the circle, and the light became intense, while the note mounted in tone and loudness. A sweet smell suffused the air.

_Come._

The command was addressed to him. Flitz approached gingerly, and the creature made way so that he could stand in the exact center of the circular space. Lyman and the other remained outside. If the Unicorn had not been there, he would have had to celebrate the ceremony himself. The Pure Ones were a Key Element in these mysteries. For that reason he carried one of their horns with him. The symbolic ingredient would have been sufficient to activate the circle, but this way was much better. The Herd Mentor had brought countless foals to this place, but each occasion was as fascinating as the first.

Standing where he was, Flitz felt the first buffers of a strong magical wind. Radiating luminous spokes jetted from the ground, and rose up to the high ceiling of the room. They transpierced him and incredible new sensations assailed his mind. He would have been terrified, but for the calm thoughts he was receiving from Laurell.

_Do not fear._

The light, the smells, and the sounds became so intense that they blocked out all perceptions of the rest of the room. Strangely enough, he could still see the Unicorn and the pillars, starkly illuminated on a whirling background of flowing gas, like the rolling clouds at the beginning of thunderstorm. Suddenly the pillars weren't stone surfaces anymore. Instead of the one in front of him, he could now see an earthy expanse of sparse weeds, with a hilly range in the background.

He heard another command in his mind and looked up. The clouds masking the ceiling were dispersing. Flitz moved his head around in delight. A whole universe of gyrating, multicolored jewels was above him. At first he naively admired the beautiful display, but something was also happening to his mind. He began to articulate more precise and complex thoughts, pretty pictures became detailed diagrams. The Ritual was operating and his mind was being awakened. Memories of past training came back to him, words and explications which had been beyond his intelligence, were now being finally understood.

A recalled phrase from the Herd Mentor explained that the jewels were stars and planets, and that they were the same as the meaningless points of light he saw at night. He could now perceive them clearly, it wasn't anything like normal vision, but if he had been human he would have said that this new sense made him directly aware of the symbolic astral meanings associated to them. He could even see these things while closing his eyes! He remembered many things, but some were still too difficult for him to understand, and he was soon overwhelmed by the avalanche of information.

Vertigo threatened, and he lowered his head. Looking around, he realized that each pillar showed a vision of a different land. Mountains, forests, hills, even a seashore.

_If you wanted to, you could just trot forward and go there. One day you will._

Yet another wonder! But he was not that eager to discover anything more. Flitz was suddenly very tired, and he realized with relief that the humming and the lights were diminishing. Gradually his perception returned to normal. He still felt very much disoriented. His mind was filled with an excess of new knowledge, and shocked by the awareness of his recent sentience. The change from what he had been a few minutes ago was such that it was even difficult to relate to his memories.

But he understood that a great gift had been given.

He expressed his gratitude to the Unicorn. He wasn't yet ready to use words, but the emotion was a simple one. The other Centaurs voiced their thanks as well. Laurell inclined his head and trotted away.

Flitz looked at his Herd Mentor. Lyman smiled. He extended his arm and spoke the closing words of the Ritual.

"Welcome to the Herd, Centaur."

He wasn't a foal anymore.


	4. Chapter 3 Back in London

_After taking leave of Hogwarts, the Six are going back to London__ where the Ministry of Magic has not been sitting idly. Percy and the Fudge have a little talk and nothing is simple anymore. The mysterious group of wizards meets again._

* * *

**_Chapter 3 – Back in London_**

_Hogwarts,_

Morning arrived with the usual end of term chaos of students rushing to pack last minute items in their luggage, chasing lost rats or escapee toads, and salvaging hurried breakfasts. The prefects were the busiest of all, as their job was to make sure that everyone was ready, and that nothing valuable or dangerous was left in the dormitories. This year, no students would be staying over the holidays.

When everything had been checked, and after everyone had been assembled in the courtyard, they were brought down to the Hogsmeade train station, where the big Red Hogwarts Express engine was blowing an impressive cloud of steam. The rolls were called one last time, and the students allowed to board. Finally, an exhausted Ron dropped in his seat next to his friend. Harry was in excellent spirits. He had been happily watching them run right and left with no remorse whatsoever, all the while taking the time to appreciate a leisurely morning tea, and making pleasant light conversation with Ginny and Luna.

Hermione was just as tired but she struggled to maintain the dignified posture she felt was expected of a responsible prefect. Alone among those with such duties, Draco seemed unfazed. He had given clear and precise instructions, delegated a maximum of tasks to his deputies and stepped back to watch House Slytherin march on like a well trained army. Hermione had been impressed, and Ron disgusted. To make things worse, they had even been the target of mordant Slytherin ribbing about the characteristic Gryffindor indiscipline.

Ron had turned toward Harry for moral support, but all his friend could manage was not to burst out in mirth, although his lips kept twitching. Even Luna had laughed at him.

"I swear, I'm going to ask Dumbledore to make you a prefect," said Ron. "I'm giving you my badge, and we'll see how _you_ manage next time."

"Really Ron, I think you're doing just fine," replied Harry with a straight face. "I wouldn't dream of taking your job away."

Hermione was outraged.

"Ron! How can you say a thing like that? Being a prefect is an honor, not just some kind of trophy you can trade away."

Ron's only response was a muttered rude remark. He looked at Draco who hadn't taken part in their conversation. He seemed lost in thought and almost brooding. Ginny threw him a puzzled glance, but she decided to give him a chance to come out of his mood by himself.

"Relax, it almost over," she said instead, turning toward her brother. "In five hours, all you'll have to think about is how to spend two weeks of complete vacation. We don't even have any homework to do."

"Hey, that's right," he said brightening. "We have to think how we're going to celebrate. Maybe we could go to a nice restaurant or something."

"Food is never far from your mind isn't it?" said Hermione, shaking her head in disappointment. "Show me that card of yours again. I bet they pictured you with a sandwich in one hand and an ice cream cone in the other."

"It's not such a bad idea," refuted Harry. "I've never gone out to a really classy place, and if there's ever been an occasion for that, it's now."

"We could dress up and everything," added Luna joining in.

Ginny agreed. Draco still seemed uninterested, until she prodded him to participate. He finally consented to remember some addresses, including a few which didn't cater specifically to the rich pure blood crowd.

Thinking about London made him suddenly remember something, and he caught Harry's eyes.

"Yes, we could go shopping tomorrow for clothes ... and other supplies."

Harry hid a half smile and nodded. He had checked the list of ingredients needed for Snape's recipes. They would need some special stuff, all right. Ron and Ginny showed their usual embarrassment at the mention of expensive purchases. The twin's bank account was still available, but it wouldn't go very far. Draco scowled in exasperation at them.

"Stop making those faces. First of all, I'm warning you that I'm not going to be as patient as Harry about your money hang ups. We're blood brothers now, and if we need to pay for something as trivial as clothes, you're bloody well going to accept our Galleons."

Ron frowned stubbornly.

"Well maybe that's so, but you don't have to throw it in our faces," he growled. Even Ginny looked hurt. She would have said something scathing herself, but she had the feeling that something was bothering him.

"Second," continued Draco with a smirk, "with the reputation we've got, I'll bet you my broom that we'll get some once in a lifetime rebates from most shops, if they accept our money at all."

"I wonder if we should agree to-" started Hermione. Ron interrupted her.

"Man that'll be brilliant. I can't wait to visit that Quidditch supply stores."

Hermione began to scowl even more. Harry caught her eyes.

"Don't fret about it Mione. We'll be reasonable. What do you say? Diagon Alley tomorrow?"

She nodded, and they all agreed. Soon they were all grinning in anticipation, and discussing what else they would like to do during their vacation.

- - -

In another part of the train, three first years had finally secured a compartment to themselves. Alicia locked the door and pulled down the curtains, then Richard extracted a sealed envelop from his cloak. One corner showed a small tear.

"Did you look at it?" asked Alicia.

"Er... I tried last night but I couldn't open it," replied Richard. The two girls shot him angry glances. "It was just to make sure there wasn't any mistake," he added defensively.

"Next time I'll keep the stuff," said Alicia coldly, "and my promises as well."

"Look," he protested. "I hadn't made any promises, and nothing happened actually, so let off me."

She glared at him.

"When you two are finished bickering, maybe we can open it?" asked Silena who hadn't said anything yet.

Brother and sister looked at her then at each other.

"Okay."

Alicia took the letter and broke the seal. Inside they found a blank piece of paper. She turned it over to check the other side, but nothing was visible on it.

"Blimey! It's another one of their jokes. We should have known better than to trust them," she said, disgusted.

Richard was perplexed. He examined the paper closely.

"I don't think so. They wouldn't have gone to all that trouble just for a stupid joke."

"Maybe it's written in invisible ink or something," proposed Silena.

Richard nodded. He took out his wand and tried to remember the proper spell.

"Hum, _Conspicuus!_"

Lines appeared on the paper. They formed an empty rectangular border frame with a larger wriggly rectangle outside it, and some deformed letters underneath.

"What does it say?" asked Alicia.

"EGASTSEDOM," replied Silena. "But the letters are wrong."

"It's a riddle," declared Richard pensively after a moment.

"Brilliant deduction Dick. Now I know why you were sorted in Ravenclaw," said Alicia sarcastically.

"It's Slytherin, and there's no need for smart assed remarks. I was only thinking out loud. If you're so sure of yourself, can you tell me what you think the letters stand for?"

Alicia looked pained.

"Well it could be the name of a spell or a place." Richard snorted in derision.

"It says MODESTSAGE when you look at it in reverse," he affirmed, "and the space character is probably missing so it should read MODEST SAGE. _That's _the riddle I'm talking about."

Brother and sister glared at each other for a moment.

_The little smart alec is right, again_, she thought, disgusted.

"Do you always fight when you're together?" asked Silena in exasperation. "I thought that we were going to have an adventure, but if you keep on like that all the time, it's not going to be much fun."

They looked at her again.

"Okay," said Alicia finally. "Let's try and solve the riddle."

They turned their attention toward the piece of paper.

"The frame looks a little like a stamp. Anybody got an idea?" asked Richard after a moment.

None of the girls had any. They tried for a moment and finally decided that they would make a copy of the drawing, so that Silena could have one during the vacation.

"We probably have to match this to some object in Hogwarts," said Alicia. "In that case, we won't be able to solve it before coming back. I'll look into _Hogwarts - A history_ anyway."

At that point the food trolley passed by their compartement, and the three children lost interest in the drawing. They bought a selection of sweets and talked about other things. Silena was very interested in what life in Muggle families was like. From what her parents had told her over the years she imagined lives of drudgery and poverty, but instead the Parkers told her of fascinating objects which seemed to her to be just as magical as what she knew.

"Where are you going to stay during Christmas?" asked Alicia after a while.

"I'll be with my brother and the others, at that house they all live in."

"You mean the Six live in the same house? Have you been there already?" Richard's voice was wistful. He was already extremely impressed with Draco as head student of Slytherin, and Harry Potter and his friends were heroes, but to think that they all lived in the same house and that Silena would be going there, that was something else again.

"Do you think we could get invited?" asked Alicia hopefully.

Silena smiled. As the smallest and youngest student, if she could call herself that, since it hadn't been confirmed that she could stay at Hogwarts, she hadn't counted for much up to now, but now it seemed that she had something others might want.

"Well, I guess I could ask."

"Please do. Hey, maybe you might want to come to our house a couple of days, and then we could maybe like, reciprocate," he said.

Silena tilted her head and thought about it. She'd like that.

"All right. I'll do it."

"Yes!" Richard wrote a string of numbers on a piece of paper. "Here. This is where to join us."

"What is it?" Silena had never seen a telephone number and she had no idea whatsoever on how it could be used.

"It's our phone number. You just dial it and ... Oh I get it, there's no phone in your house perhaps?"

"I don't know. What's a _fone_?"

"Hum." He thought about it for a second. "Listen, Hermione Granger has been raised as a Muggle like us, so she should know what to do. You just give her this. Ok?"

"All right." She was dubious, but trusting. She reflected a moment.

"Maybe I could ask also ask her about the riddle?"

The other two looked at each other. Richard shook his head.

"No. She's a pretty smart, but she's prefect and a stickler for rules. She'd catch us and ruin everything."

- - -

_Ministry of Magic,_

Cornelius Fudge was deep in thought, sitting at the imposing desk of his suite sized office. The Ministry of Magic was normally a hive of multiple activities, but these days it was truly hellish. The expensive carpet on the floor was littered with debris of Howlers protesting or demanding actions, most of the time that he be sacked as Minister.

Several times, he'd asked for an Auror to cast a silencing charm, so that he could escape the screaming voices. For some reason, the spells didn't work very well, and now his head was ringing like a bell. Then he'd given orders to filter all incoming mail, or at least to have it diverted to a special location, but of course nobody wanted that job. They were all claiming to be busy with any number of other missions. Finally, he managed to have his office effectively warded. Things were a little calmer now, at least for him.

The Minister looked at the painting of his predecessor, a portly wizard sleeping against his picture frame, with cotton wool stuffed into his ears, and he decided it was time for some internal damage control.

He activated the miniature floo terminal on his desk, and the tired face of his secretary appeared.

"Oh Marge, is young Weasley in yet?" he asked. "And by the way, can you remind me what his first name is by the way?"

"It's Percival sir, and-"

The conversation was interrupted by a zipping sound followed by the characteristic sound of shredding paper. Marge's eyes opened wide in alarm as red bits of envelope suddenly flew across her face, accompanied by a terribly loud voice.

"HOW IN MERLIN'S NAME CAN SUCH INCOMPETENCE..."

Fudge inactivated the floo terminal immediately. He slowly counted to ten, and re-opened the connection. When Marge's face reappeared, it was markedly more disheveled than before, and some red tatters were still in her hair.

"Humph. Sorry about that," he said, forcing a compassionate smile. He gestured to his face, and she quickly brushed a shred of paper from her eyebrow.

"Yes he's in his office sir. He got in _just ten minutes ago_." Her tone of voice conveyed her disapproval that a civil servant should be so late to work. "Shall I tell him you want to see him?"

"No don't bother. I'll go down there myself. Thank you Marge."

He got a miffed snort in response. The idea that the Minister of Magic should abase himself to visit a junior member, instead of having him convoked, shocked Miss Marge Pennywrinkle profoundly. _What were things coming to?_

Fudge actually felt the same way, but he feared that after what happened, young Weasley might well push his rebellion so far as refusing to obey a direct order, or at least delaying it. This would diminish his authority further, and right now he needed all he had. _Let's not take any chances._

Several people were starting to maneuver against him, and it was vital to neutralize them. Splitting the Weasley clan should be possible, and it would certainly help secure his position. Despite the challenge, Cornelius Fudge was content, almost joyful. Bureaucratic infighting was so much more his cup of tea than dealing with You-Know-Whats, Death Eaters and other menaces.

He opened his door and ducked as two stray Howlers whizzed over his head. He quickly stepped out, closed the door, and stepped away. He heard muffed screams behind the panel and smiled. _Gotcha._

Walking briskly toward the end of the corridor, he took the elevator to get down to the junior staff level. As the doors of the lift closed he saw another Howler desperately flying toward him. He closed his eyes and the doors slammed shut just in time. All he heard was the soft 'tock' of the paper missile hitting steel, immediately followed by a muted roar.

"YOU DESERVE TO BE LEFT TO ROT ON..."

He sighed. It was going to be like that for at least a week.

As he approached Percy's office he noticed that the door was open. He showed his head in and knocked smartly.

"Good morning, young Weasley. May I come in?"

Percy Weasley was slumped in his chair. He was certainly not working even though there was a neat pile of folders filling his IN basket. He looked at the Minister and, despite himself, sat up to a more respectful posture.

"Er, yes! ... Good morning sir," he said. His expression was guarded however.

Fudge came in and made no comment. _Mustn't scare the fish away_, he thought

"These are trying times you know," he started, making a show of sighing deeply. "But I am glad that this crisis is now behind us."

Percy couldn't believe his ears. He started to protest but all he could manage was to open his mouth. He was so outraged that he couldn't decide on what to say first.

Fudge displayed his best benevolent look and didn't give him a chance to recover.

"I know," he said, raising his hand. "I know that you are sorry that you have been a little angry with me, young Weasley. There's no need to apologize, I understand all too well what you've been going through."

Percy started to make sputtering sounds. Fudge ignored it.

"These responsibilities of ours are very taxing Percival - you don't mind if I call you Percival do you?" Percy closed his mouth and tried to stand up. He banged his knee painfully against his desk, and fell back in his chair.

"Please, please stay seated. It's quite all right. What was I saying?" He screwed his eyes shut and massaged his temples slowly. The very picture of a man tortured by a relentless headache. "Those damn Howlers. Yes. We've all had to take some very hard decisions these last days, especially myself."

He opened his eyes and looked Percy straight in the face.

"You understand what I had to do now, don't you?"

Percy shook his head slowly, looking confused.

"And it worked." Fudge raised his finger in the air. "Thanks Merlin. Everyone played their parts, and it worked. We defeated You-know-who." He smiled.

It was too much. Percy got himself under control and stood up.

"You! You _abandoned_ us!" he cried.

Fudge discarded his benevolent attitude and turned a severe face toward Percy.

"No I didn't. On the contrary, _you_ abandoned _me_!"

Percy started sputtering again.

"B-but ..."

Fudge cut him off.

"I _knew _Hogwarts was well defended, and I was right. I _knew_ that if we didn't protect the rest of the wizard community, there would be a massacre, and I acted to prevent that. I made my decision and it turned out right, Percival. We_ won_!"

"H-Harry ..." croaked Percy.

Fudge shrugged and waived his hand dismissively.

"Harry was Dumbledore's tool to invoke the defenses prepared by the Hogwarts Founders. You don't think that the school wasn't perfectly protected from the likes of You-Know-Who?" He gestured airily. "But Dumbledore is always anxious about everything, and I continuously have to reassure him."

He opened his arms to encompass the room.

"The facts are there for all to see. The Ministry took a firm decision and the menace is gone." He paused, all the while looking at Percy. He could see that he had planted the tiniest of doubts in the boy's mind._ The fish bit. Now to plant the hook deeper._

He walked toward the desk, under the apprehensive gaze of the younger wizard, and softly banged his fist on the table.

"I - was - right - Percival."

Percy looked at him for a moment without saying anything. Fudge counted to ten and then he knew he had won. _The hook is in. Now I test the line._

He continued, this time using his usual forceful, Minister of Magic voice.

"But my work is not done, and I'm very sorry to see that some among my staff are trying to sabotage our efforts."

He saw Percy give a start and frown. No matter what he might actually think about Fudge, _sabotage_ was not a word that Percival Weasley liked to hear.

"Yes Mister Weasley," continued Fudge. He noticed the hurt in the boy's face at not being called by his first name anymore. _First names are for friends and loyal servants, young Weasley. They are for those who choose wisely whom they serve._

"Some would like to replace me, and thus to weaken the Ministry." He stood up and walked away from Percy's desk, letting his body language express disappointment. "And I am worried that you may be one of them."

He paused, seemingly lost in sad reflections, but discretely looking at the young man behind his half closed eyelids.

"It's really a shame. You showed such promises at first. A man like me needs talented, _loyal_, people around him, groomed to fill in the important functions that must be held."

He started to walk toward the door.

"Sir!" cried Percy before the Minister could leave.

"Yes?" he replied absently, his mind evidently moving toward other, important matters.

Percy swallowed.

"Please forgive me sir, but it was such a shock, finding that my sister ..."

"But of course my dear boy. I told you I understood. The past is but the past and we need to look at the present... and toward the future."_ Time to reel the catch in and hope that the line holds._

"I'll not let you down sir." He grimaced. "But I can't go against my family..." He looked torn between conflicting duties.

_The line is not a solid as I thought, and the fish is not as big. Still, half a cauldron is better that no potion at all, and a pawn is better than nothing._

Fudge gave him his best smile.

"I wouldn't want that for the life of me, my dear boy. I understand the complications. Can I count on you to be sympathetic, and perhaps to defend my position?"

Percy felt much better, and it showed.

"Yes sir! I will do my best."

"That will be fine then, Percival. I knew I could count on you." _But not as much as I hoped._

"Good day sir," Percy said with evident relief.

"Good day, Percival."

Fudge left quickly before he could show his disappointment.

_All in all, this is not too bad. He was mollified, and others should be as well. I might as well_ _use the same story again. If enough of them can believe it, maybe even I will._

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a moving red speck, and hurried toward the elevators. This time the Howler managed to enter the lift. Fudge's trip back up to his office was very unpleasant.

- - -

Arthur Weasley was contently seated in his office. There had been no Howlers for him, and in fact a number of colleagues had come in to express their congratulations. He heard the soft whisper of a flying memo, and saw a paper airplane land on his desk and unfold gracefully. It was a note from Fudge calling upon several of them to accompany him at the train station to welcome the students coming back.

_Yes, Albus told me he would send them home early. The kids will certainly appreciate a long vacation, and it'll be nice to have the whole family at the Burrow. _

He read the note and noticed something unusual in the list of recipients. Many names weren't members of the Ministry at all.

_Rita Skeeters - Daily Prophet_

_Junior League of Druidic Witches and Wizards_

_Wizengamot committee_

_Witches Weekly_

Then the content mentioned something about the Ministry organizing a press conference, at the train station, with the newly distinguished students.

_Merlin! He's going to turn this into a circus._

Arthur debated on his options. There was no way that he would be able to stop this, but at the very least, he could limit the damage. He stood up and passed his head into the corridor.

"Kingsley! Can you spare a minute?"

Kingsley Shacklebolt emerged from his office. A copy of the same memo was dangling from his fingers.

"I see you've read it too. Shall we start planning the rescue party?" he asked, smiling.

Arthur chuckled. Kingsley hadn't been on the list, but he had a reputation for staying ahead of most situations. _And he's right, what the kids will need is a bloody rescue party._

- - -

_London,_

With a loud scream from the steam whistle, the Hogwarts Express arrived in King's Cross Station, London. Harry didn't expect the Dursleys to be there of course. In fact, he didn't plan to see them again for the rest of life, but the Weasleys would be present and of course most of the children's parents. He figured that there would probably also be one or two representative of the Ministry as well. All in all, he thought it would be a little more crowed than usual.

It was pure pandemonium.

There was such a crowd that they were sure that the entire wizard population of London must be there. Platform 9 ¾ had been magically enlarged and it now looked to be wider than long. Thousands of witches and wizards were cheering on the students as they debarked. The Six were immediately pounced upon and carried in triumph, surrounded by signs decorated with their names, blown ups of their chocolate frog cards, the Hogwarts crest, and various written expressions of thanks and congratulations.

"THE-BOYS-AND-GIRLS-WHO-WON!"

"WELCOME TO THE HOGWARTS HEROS!"

"THANK YOU!"

Everybody was yelling, reaching out to shake their hand, asking for autographs, and for some, trying to get bits of their clothing for souvenir.

"Mister Potter, let me thank you!"

"Will you sign your card for me please?"

Hermione saw her parents desperately trying to reach her, but unable to get close. They waved to each other frantically.

"Are you Miss Granger? Wonderful to meet you!"

Draco was suddenly aware that Silena was not with him. He looked around anxiously, and for an instant he could just make her out, sticking closely to the Parker children as they were being collected by a tall blonde woman.

It was impossible to move, or even to speak to each other. Countless strangers seemed intent on touching them, say something inaudible or simply express their happiness and gratitude. The first few minutes were euphoric but after a while they became alarmed that it would never stop. Thankfully, Arthur arrived with the Ministry security service, and they were finally allowed to escape to a restricted part of the station. Hermione's father gestured to signal that he would try to get inside via another entrance.

When the door closed, they stood there, panting, with their hair disheveled and their cloaks and tunics in shreds. The escort Aurors were laughing themselves silly, but they had the grace to cast several _Reparo_ spells to return their clothing to normal. Draco asked one of them to try and recover his sister.

"Maybe we should wait a little before planning a little trip in town?" proposed Hermione.

"Yea, like about a century," answered Ron.

"Do you think there could be a special charm to hold them at bay?" asked Harry, half seriously.

At that point Fudge, and several important looking officials, arrived. All were wearing magnificent robes. Harry winced when he spotted Rita Skeeters, accompanied by no less than three photographers from the _Daily Prophet_. Luna beamed as she spotted her father with another _Quibbler_ reporter.

"My dear friends. Welcome back to London," intoned the Minister. "Mister Potter, Harry, let me express my most sincere congratulations for what you've done."

Harry's head jumped up angrily, and he was ready to make a scathing reply, but Fudge had prepared for the occasion very well. His little speech was now well rehearsed and he had briefed all the other officials on how to confuse the students as much as possible. Before they could utter a word, Harry and his friends had been congratulated by half a dozen very impressive wizards, photographed for the next edition of the _Daily Prophet_ and invited to more than a dozen social events. In desperation he tried to catch Arthur's attention but Ron's father could only shrug helplessly and suggest patience. Even Draco looked rattled.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger and Molly Weasley were finally permitted to see them. Silena was brought in as well, and they thanked Mrs. Parker for having looked after her. Hermione's parents weren't able to stay long, but she promised them that they would meet together the next day at their hotel.

They were asked to come out again and say a few words. That wasn't too hard, as nobody could hear anything above the din in the station hall. Mainly they waived as the enthusiastic crowd and smiled a lot. Hermione was reminded of some footage of the early Beatles concerts. _Pottermania! This is ridiculous._ The press conference was called, and it passed in a blur of quick fire questions, mercifully limited to trivial details. Arthur was able to gain them some time by promising a more complete interview in the following days. The final outrage was a series of posed photographs with Fudge and other important officials. By that time, they were too dazzled to protest effectively, and they were ready to accept anything if it could hurry up the end of this masquerade. After the final flash of the cameras illuminated their group, Arthur and the Aurors mercifully led them away, under the screaming cheers of the crowd.

- - -

_Somewhere,_

The room hadn't changed. The blackened remains of the spider were still stuck to one of the metallic stalks. It was untouched but not for long. A long thin snake was slithering along one of the wall, when it caught a whiff of the insect corpse and stopped. Burned meat was not something it particularly liked, but the day had been poor nourishment wise.

The snake followed the scent and was stopped at the raised surface. It explored the perimeter until it found a broken stone with enough purchase so that it could climb on top, and move closer to its objective. The spider's body was perched too high so that the serpent had to wrap its body around the framework. A few seconds later its mouth opened to bite, when a loud crackling sound was heard...

The flames stabilized into seven single figures.

"We have news," began the first speaker.

"What did you learn?" asked the woman with the rich voice and the beautiful face. The one who had been silent at the beginning of the previous meeting.

"The announcement was true," he said, gesturing toward the orator. "The Hogwarts Headmaster confirmed to the Wizengamot that the six students merged their magic to attain a power greater than ... your unfortunate candidate, Electra."

He couldn't resist the jib, and the youngest wizard started to chuckle. He stopped abruptly when he saw the disapproval on the faces of the others.

"He wasn't just my candidate," replied the witch in a low and cold voice. "I seem to recall that we had all agreed to this plan." The wizard cringed and raised a calming hand. He was already regretting his bravado.

"I thought that our rule was to work together for a common goal," she continued with a hint of menace, transfixing the speaker with a deadly stare. He grimaced in evident pain.

"Or against a common ... enemy," she finished sharply, throwing the word at him like a dart.

A moment of silence passed. The speaker seemed to be recuperating. He knew he had crossed a line. In this company, to be isolated was death, and one did not provoke another without open backing and good reason. The Brotherhood was an alliance, witches and wizards linked together by complex loyalties. They all had talents as well as weaknesses, and the group was greater that any individual.

"I take that back," he said demurely.

The admission was the price of his whim, and it would cost him diminished prestige for a time, in addition to a raging headache. He raged inwardly, but the damage was done.

_May these so called Dark Lords be cursed for all eternity! Why do they always seek absolute domination when influence is all that we really need? And their descendants are no better._

The woman called Electra spoke again, but this time her tone made it clear than she was taking charge.

"How did they learn about such magic? Did _Dumbledore _teach them?" She spat out the word as if it was a foul thing.

"The damnable old man professed to barely understanding the workings of what happened," replied the portly orator, smoothly adjusting to the new balance of power. "It seems that the Potter boy's mother had also dabbled in this art. Professor?" He turned toward the ancient wizard on his left.

"It is plain that they are only just rediscovering the Founders' secrets," he said in his toneless voice. "I can only surmise that when Riddle attacked the boy, he transferred some powers to him, perhaps a part of Salazar's heritage. Maybe this was somehow combined with some of his mother's enchantments."

"The Lovegood girl is rumored to be an Empath as well," added the old witch.

"Interesting," said the third witch. "An _accidental _combination of factors, and years of planning lie in the dust."

"What can be done against such power?" said the orator.

Electra had been asking herself the same thing. The situation was both more complex and less unfavorable than they'd thought. She was already seeing opportunities.

"They need to be together to wield it," she said after a moment. "They are young, and they have just won a decisive victory. It should make them careless. I think we can manage to find a weakness and exploit it."

The others looked at her and agreed.

"Until then we wait."

Flames engulfed them and the room returned to its previous darkness. There was no trace left of the spider, and only a twisted curl of flesh remained of the hungry serpent.


	5. Chapter 4 Grimauld

After arriving in London and surviving Fudge's welcoming committee, the Six and Silena rejoin Grimauld Place. The first days are not going to be as peaceful as they could expect.

* * *

**_Chapter 4 – Grimauld_**

_12, Grimauld Place,_

The Ministry had provided several limousines for their transport. The cars whizzed through the London streets with an ease that muggle drivers could only fantasize about. They were invisible to non wizards, and they changed size to accommodate the smallest openings in the traffic. It was not unlike the Knight Bus, but much more comfortable. Upon arriving at Grimauld Place, Silena and Draco were shown a piece of paper written by Dumbledore. As they read it, the house sprung into shape before their eyes, and the paper disintegrated. A few minutes later, the exhausted students slumped in the first available chairs in the living room.

"The next days won't be as bad," said Arthur, grinning at the sight despite his resentment toward Fudge. "We'll get the word out that you should be allowed to move around peacefully. Of course you won't escape individual fans, but it should be bearable." He chuckled. "Your favorite House elves have already arrived and they'll take good care of you."

He made ready to leave, but stopped as he remembered one last thing.

"Oh by the way, Molly and I would be very happy to have you for dinner tomorrow night at the Burrow. No special calling time, just come when you feel like it."

With that final invitation, he bid them farewell and left the house.

Nobody said a word for a while. They were still reordering their thoughts, Silena looked around the large room, and Draco followed her gaze. He remembered what they had told him. This was the ancestral home of the Black Family. He'd never been there, but his mother had, and the few things he could recall of her descriptions didn't match what he saw. The Blacks had been an old, traditional, Slytherin line. There was no way that their house would have had pastel colored walls and orange brown leather chairs.

_They evidently redecorated it in the Gryffindor tradition._

He thought that it was not very dignified, and that the lights were too bright. His distaste must have shown because Harry and Hermione chuckled at him.

"What's the matter Draco? Don't you like your new house?"

He grimaced and made an effort to be polite.

"No, no. It's ... not too bad."

Even Luna laughed. Ginny shot them an annoyed look.

"I don't see what's funny," she said, "and maybe we should discuss the decoration. There were some nice ideas in the Slytherin common room." Draco gave her a nod of thanks.

Harry turned serious and he exchanged a glance with Hermione.

"You've got a point there. We haven't really given this a lot of attention, but if we'll going to be living here together, then the shared rooms should reflect all our personalities."

"I wouldn't presume ..." started Draco with a hint of mockery.

"No, I'm serious," interrupted Harry. "I know that it's officially my house, but I didn't choose it. You talked of us being blood brothers now, and I'm taking you at your word. If we decide to stay together, then I vote that it becomes our common property, and that we adjust the furnishings accordingly."

They looked at each other. None of them had really thought as far as that.

"It's very generous of you Harry," said Ginny with gratitude. She turned toward Draco. "I'd like us to live here together, at least for a while," she murmured.

"It would certainly be practical while we're still at school," affirmed Hermione.

Draco wasn't opposed to it, but that kind of community life was too far from his experience. He had a lot of money, or at least he should have, once the inheritance of his parents would be resolved, and he had been thinking about rebuilding Malfoy Manor, and living there with Ginny and Silena.

"Hum," he said.

"We don't have to decide anything now," said Harry. "Why don't we show you around first?"

Draco nodded, thankful for the respite, and Ginny took his arm. They visited the rest of the house. Aside from the main reception rooms, the lower floor had another suite for Remus and Tonks, some storage space and the kitchen. Most living quarters were on the second floor and the need for some changes there was quickly identified. The single bathroom had already been insufficient for five, it was even more so for seven.

"We could arrange to have three suites with attendant bathrooms," proposed Hermione. "And Silena could have a smaller room for herself." The girls were evidently taken with the idea of redecorating, and several suggestions starting flying back and forth.

"Not too small," interrupted the little girl. "I promised Alicia and Richard that they could come and visit me." She realized that it wouldn't be her decision to make. "Er, if you'll agree of course." She added demurely.

Harry grinned and raised an eyebrow at Ginny and Draco. She didn't say anything, but he finally gave a wry smile and nodded.

"All right then," he concluded. "We'll set aside two rooms for you and any visiting friends." Silena beamed and clapped her hands.

They moved on to the next floor and Hermione became more demonstrative as she went toward the part she liked best: the library. They already had an impressive collection, and she planned on adding more to it. Draco saw that it also had some attendant office space, as well as a small laboratory.

"We only used that last summer for potion practice, but I'd like to enlarge it so that we could also do some Transfiguration and Charms magic," said Hermione. "And I'd also like to reserve a room for the association, maybe with a separate floo access."

When they came back to the kitchen, Winky and Dobby welcomed them effusively. Silena exclaimed her delight at seeing the Malfoy's former House Elf. Dobby was very happy to see the little girl again, but he was markedly wary of her brother. Draco's reaction was surprise, followed by unease.

"I didn't know you'd decided to own him," he said to Harry. Hermione bristled.

"We don't _own_ them. Dobby and Winky are free Elves," she said pointedly. "They can choose who they work for, but we have an agreement with them, and with professor Dumbledore, so that they spend part of their time here, and part at Hogwarts."

Draco grimaced. He saw that the creatures were wearing clothes. Winky had a discrete white robe, while Dobby was smothered in several layers of socks, shirts and whatnot. He even had a pair of short over his pants. Draco didn't know whether to be disgusted at the ridiculous display, or annoyed at the unwanted reminder of his former life.

_First that jerk of a Minister, then I have to live in this circus house, and now this._

He made a heroic effort to cover up his feelings and moved around, pretending to examine the kitchen facilities. Ginny and Luna weren't fooled and they exchanged a silent look of concern. Ginny gestured at her friend to let her resolve that issue. Luna shrugged, and they moved on, finishing the tour of the house, including the garden which was completely covered in snow. Coming back to the main room, Draco's mood had infected them, and a sense of awkwardness was palpable. Silena asked if she could return to the kitchen for a snack. Hermione gave her the permission, and then Luna suggested that the couples retire for their rooms to unpack and freshen up. The others readily agreed, except Draco who was still keeping silent. Ginny led him to their room. He looked at the two single beds, and his frown deepened.

Ginny closed the door, looked at him and took a deep breath.

"Don't fret about Dobby," she said. "I'll have a talk with him, and it'll be okay."

He went to sit on one of the beds without responding. He examined the walls and the furniture, his closed face like a lid on his thoughts. He sighed, stretched out on his back and closed his eyes, shutting out the world around him. He missed the Slytherin dungeons of Hogwarts, the old _traditional_ fixtures and colors. He missed his _home_. Thinking about Malfoy Manor, after his first contact with this house, made him nostalgic and unhappy.

_Maybe I'm just tired._

He knew it wasn't the only reason. He felt out of place here. It was still Harry's home. The others might be comfortable in this house, but he couldn't. Ginny had told him how Dumbledore and Hermione had transformed it. She'd been there from the start, almost part of _their _family, but he wasn't.

_I don't belong._

He sighed again, opened his eyes, and just stared at the white ceiling. Ginny frowned, but she resolved to try and reach out to him even so.

"We don't have to unpack right now. Why don't we discuss how you'd like the room to look like? Or even the house. We could just let our imagination go."

He snorted, but said nothing.

_Okay, let's try it one more time,_ she thought.

"I know you're upset but really, it's just been a long day. I can go and get something from the kitchen. We'll eat here, just the two of us, and go to bed early."

Once again he stayed silent. _What's the hell's the matter with him?_ she thought with growing irritation. Ginny had a kind and generous nature but her patience with the whims of others was severely limited.

"Hey you!" she finally snapped. "Am I a potted plant or what? If you want to brood like a spoiled brat then fine, do it, but the least you could do is be honest with yourself and tell me to buzz off."

His head jerked up and anger blazed in his eyes.

"I am not a spoiled brat!"

"Well in that case, you're doing a remarkable imitation of one. Everybody is being nice to you, and all you do is sulk. Talk about a good example for Silena."

He jumped up and moved up to her

"Don't talk to me about Silena!" he whispered furiously. "She's lost our _mother_. We've lost our _home_! And in case you don't remember, it was for your sake!"

Ginny hadn't cringed when he'd jumped at her, but she blanched at those last words. A terrible cold seized her guts. She took a step backwards. They stared at each other for a moment, and Draco realized he'd said something very wrong.

"Fine," she replied with an icy voice which sounded worse than any yelling could. "I understand that you miss your _nice family_ and your _sweet little home_. I guess I made a mistake thinking that I could compete with them."

"Ginny-" he said, horrified. She raised her hand and interrupted him.

"I'll leave you alone. No need to pile on more painful reminders." She walked toward her personal chest and levitated it. With her free had, she took her other bag. "Good bye, and thanks for everything. It wasn't bad while it lasted."

"Ginny! I'm sorry! Please." He tried to touch her but she dodged and evaded him. He grabbed her arm and pulled her so she would look at him. "Ginny!"

"Let me go! I know I can't fight you. Do I have to scream for help?" she said furiously. Her face was set and hard. Anyone who knew her could be certain that she would do it.

He released her. "Damn it. I said I was sorry!"

She glared at him, saying nothing.

"Please Ginny," he pleaded. "I apologize. I was tired, upset and grumpy, and I said something I didn't mean. I knew it was wrong as soon as I opened my mouth."

Her expression softened ever so slightly, but the anger and hurt were still there.

"Ginny I love you. I'm sorry I hurt you." He tried to put all his conviction into his voice. "You mean more to me than any home or family, and that's the truth."

She relaxed a little and lowered her head. He took her into his arms, and she pressed herself again him.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. He felt tears flowing from her face, moistening his neck.

"It's okay," she sniffed. "I didn't really meant what I said either, well almost."

"Don't say that!"

"No, of course not. I love you too." She gripped him strongly, almost painfully, and she raised her face to stare at him. "But don't ever push me away again."

"It was stupid. You really scared me."

"Sorry," she said softly. He lowered his head slowly until his lips touched hers. He tasted the salty tang of her crying.

"You know you had a pretty good idea a few minutes ago."

"Which one?"

"Getting something from the kitchen and spending the evening here."

She smiled wickedly.

"Eating?"

"Well, you also mentioned something about the decoration."

"Yes." Her eyes twinkled.

"And, hum, maybe we could also find some other ... things to do."

"Yes." They were very bright now.

"And of course getting a good night's sleep."

"That's all?"

"Well, if you get bored, I'm sure we'll find other ideas."

She chuckled.

"Okay. I'll go down and fill some plates. You start thinking about all that."

She left the room and Draco reflected that he was both a great git, and very lucky. Okay so he didn't have everything brought to him on a plate, except maybe the forthcoming dinner, but overall he didn't have it so bad.

_I don't want my life on a plate. I want to be able to _do_ things._

He realized now that what grated him the most was Dumbledore's insistence that they stay out of the forthcoming events until they'd finished their studies. On the one hand, he could understand the reasoning behind this, but on the other, his instinct told him that they would much more effective now than in two year's time. Had he been alone in this, he would have seriously considered dropping out of school and trying it alone, but of course the others would never agree to that.

Draco sighed. He was part of a group and that was both a restraint and a great thing. The six of them, seven with Silena, were not really a family, but something precious nonetheless. Harry's friendship was important to him. They treated each other as equals, and they both knew that the other would always be there in case of need. For someone like him, born and bred to the cold inhumanity of Slytherin parody that the Malfoy home had been, it was a strange dependency. The simple fact that Draco craved Harry's approval, tempered his ambition, and his desire for power. In a flash of intuition he saw this as the greatest difference between Voldemort and Salazar Slytherin. The Dark Lord had suffered no friends, and therefore no one had been able to preserve him from descending into evil madness.

Godric had been there for Salazar, just as Harry was there for him. Ginny was his love, but she wouldn't be able to check him like he could. He suddenly understood that, if he ever gave in to the lure of the Dark Arts, Ginny could very well damn herself with him, but going down that way would first break his friendship with Harry, and that alone could save him. It was a sobering thought. Not even Severus had that much importance in his life.

For an instant, Draco considered going to see his friend. Maybe not to say these things explicitly, but merely to let him know how he felt. Harry would not need words to intuit what he meant. He checked himself when he realized that he and Hermione would probably like a quiet moment together. A slow grin showed on his face as he thought of a better idea.

Taking out his wand, he transfigured the two single beds into a double. That was easy enough to do. Turning toward the nearest wall, he concentrated on colors.

- - -

Ginny descended the stairs and went to the kitchen. Winky was more than happy to help her fill a large tray with some cold cuts, salads, bread and other simple snacks. The Elves had even baked a cake, and two slices were added to the mix, as well some juice and beer. Coming back with the platter floating before her, she saw Luna reading tranquilly in the living room.

"Are you all by yourself?" asked Ginny.

"Yes," replied Luna, looking up. "Ron's sleeping," she added with an amused smile.

_Oh._

"And he didn't even raid the kitchen before?" she mocked. "I won't ask what you've been doing to my brother."

"He'll be down in a moment." She indicated the tray. "I guess we don't need to wait for you for dinner?"

"Er, No."

"Well then, have a nice evening," said Luna, showing her calm soothing smile. "I don't think Harry and Hermione will be coming down either."

_Right._

"See you tomorrow then," said Ginny, grinning.

"Good night."

When she returned to their room, Draco was unpacking and she took in the differences. Aside from the beds, he had changed the wallpaper color to a rich shade of green. The rest of the furniture still showed brown orange tones but the metal fittings were now silver and gold, with some red or green inlays.

"Whoa!"

"Do you like it? I was just playing around. We can improve on this together, and develop some ideas to use in the other rooms." He looked at her expectantly, a touch defensive.

She rushed to embrace him fiercely.

"It's beautiful. I love it!" He hugged her back, and she whispered in his ear. "And I love you."

He grunted and indicated the tray which had glided to rest on the table.

"Anything in there that can't wait?"

She shook her head, her eyes shining brightly. They forgot about the food for a while.


	6. Chapter 5 First Morning

_First day of Christmas vacation. The Six organize themselves at Grimauld. Harry and Draco have a talk then he and Hermione meet her parents once again._

* * *

_**Chapter 5 - First Morning**_

_Grimauld Place,_

Draco woke up early and went down to the kitchen.

"Dobby wishes Master Draco a good Morning, sir," said Dobby formally. "Does Master Draco still like his coffee with sugar?"

"Yes, thanks," he replied automatically. "Not too much sugar, please," he added.

The Elf went to the stove to recover the coffee pot, and he then proceeded to set up a large cup, some plates and miscellaneous things in front of him. Draco looked at the diminutive creature attentively, searching for signs of hostility or resentment.

When Dobby had been in the Malfoy's employ, he had been very roughly treated by Lucius, despised by Narcissa, and occasionally yelled at by him. The Elf had been his father's personal servant, and thankfully Draco didn't remember many occasions when he himself had been very abusive. He didn't have any particular feelings for the creatures, but he hadn't failed to notice that Hermione, and to a lesser extend Harry, had a soft spot for them.

"Here are some rolls, Master Draco, sir."

"Thank you ... Dobby."

A mutually polite relationship seemed the best strategy for now. Certainly he could live with that.

"Morning!"

He turned his head as Harry and Hermione came in.

"Hi."

"Harry Potter, sir, Missy Hermione. Dobby is very happy to see you on this fine morning. Will Harry Potter and Missy Hermione want their breakfast be as usual?"

"Yes Dobby, thank you."

Draco rolled his eyes as the Elf fussed over Harry and Hermione like a five star _maitre d'hotel_ on overdrive. He thought about it and then decided that he had two choices. He could be annoyed, or he could use the occasion to observe his friends in this new environment. The second alternative was much more positive and it fitted with his natural inclination.

_I need to understand why others act as they do._

So he would play at being a student of human nature, and a judge of character. He already knew some of the techniques, but he had mainly tried his hand against Slytherin minds.

Looking at them, he could already detect interesting differences. Harry treated Dobby as a friend with weird manners, and he tolerated the Elf's eccentricity because of this. Hermione on the other hand appeared to base their relationship on an ethical level, and she was always careful that the Elves were not forced to do anything against their wills, or their best interest.

It was interesting to look at. When they were at Hogwarts, they all interacted with other students and teachers in a very standardized situation. Most of the times they had spent together, it had been to discuss training, classes, or the trivial subjects of boarding school life.

"Day dreaming?" asked Hermione.

He shook his head.

"Just thinking."

"Pleasant thoughts I hope," asked Harry.

"Yeah." He made a face. "Sorry about last night."

Both nodded with some sympathy. None of them noticed Dobby looking at Draco carefully from the side.

"You sound better this morning."

"We talked about it, Ginny and me."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She'd heard more than talking at one point. Actually, it sounded like a screaming fight, although it didn't last long. If it had she would have intervened.

"You talked," said Harry, looking at him attentively. The other boy shrugged.

"Okay, we had an argument, then we talked and now it's better," he said defensively. "And we redecorated the room," he added, trying to steer away from the subject.

"Maybe you'd like to talk with us too," said Harry carefully, not letting himself be side tracked.

Draco frowned. Hermione reached out and took his hand.

"It's what friends are for," continued Harry.

The other boy hesitated. It had been difficult enough to open up to Ginny. Both of them were looking at him with earnest faces. He could feel the warmth of Hermione's touch, and he realized how in tune with each other those two were. The way they reacted, they might as well be a single personality.

He shrugged, unwilling to open up. Yesterday, he had almost been anxious to talk to Harry, but this morning, he felt more cautious. _I'm not going to tell them that I'm still learning what friends are for._

"Do you feel bad about what Dumbledore said?" asked Hermione. He grimaced. She didn't miss much. Actually she was probably as frustrated as he.

"Yeah. I didn't realize it at first but it's what's been bugging me since yesterday." He sighed. "I was really hoping to be able to do things."

She gave him a sympathetic smile.

"And to top it all we've got to swallow take all this crap." He gestured toward the day's edition of the _Daily Prophet_, which had done a special feature on their arrival and Fudge's welcome. The Minister's figure was gesticulating on the front page, in the middle of one his speeches. The six of them were standing in the background.

Harry looked at it and chuckled. He took out a pen and drew a moustache on the Minister's face. The image immediately tried to wipe it off. It broke the tension and they burst out laughing.

"You know. He's so ridiculous, you really have to laugh," said Hermione.

"Yeah," replied Draco. "Until you feel like screaming."

"I want to go further too," she said more seriously. "But maybe we should take the time to think it out." She drummed her fingers on the table. "Dumbledore said 'patience'. I'd rather say 'prepare'."

He nodded slowly.

"Okay, here's what we could do," said Harry. "Mione and I will be going to see her parents, and probably having lunch with them. Tonight we'll be at the Weasleys, but tomorrow we can start analyzing what our options are."

"Sounds good."

"Hi guys, Hi Hermione."

Ron, Luna and Ginny came in and took seats at the table. Normal breakfast activities resumed for a while, and when the subject of the day's activities came up again, Harry repeated what he'd said to Draco.

"I'd like to see my father," said Luna. She turned toward Ron. "Will you be coming with me Ronny?"

"... ure" he replied, his mouth full of toast.

Draco and Ginny decided to stay in the house. Ginny proposed that they arrive early at the Burrow, so that she could spend more time with her family. She and Drago would also think about the layout of the house during the morning.

"Don't start redecorating everything before we have a chance to participate," said Harry, winking.

"Nothing irreversible, and we'll just work on the living room."

"Don't forget that it's not just your two Houses," added Luna. "Some blue and yellow would be nice."

"It's a good thing that none of us is from Hufflepuff," said Ginny, chuckling. "It's going to be complicated enough as it is."

Draco looked at her and turned his mind on how he would like their new home to look like.

_I need to find the right shade of green that will go with her hair._

It was a much pleasant thought.

- - -

Later in his room, Harry changed into semi formal Muggle clothing. He didn't have a great deal of choice, but at least it wasn't reduced to Dudley's leftovers. He selected black pants, a shirt and a light sweater.

"Do you know were they're staying?" he asked.

"In a hotel: Crowne Plaza St. James."

"How do you plan on getting there?" They couldn't exactly Apparate on the street, or inside the hotel lobby.

"I've got a map of safe Apparation points in London." She showed him a piece of paper with the Ministry logo. "It'll be about ten minutes from the nearest one."

Wrapped up in warm coats, they went outside and transported themselves to the safe point she'd indicated. They appeared inside a dark cellar. Judging from the smells, it was under an Indian or a Chinese restaurant. They got out without meeting anybody, and he let her guide him along the streets. He must have been goggling a little, because she threw him an amused, if superior, look.

"Never been to London before?" she teased.

"Well the Dursleys didn't take me out often," he replied, a little defensively.

Hermione's expression narrowed. The Dursleys had better hope that she never meet with her.

"Would you like me to show you around later?" she added, in a gentler voice.

He thought about strolling together along the streets, shopping and maybe finding a nice tea house afterwards. It would be different than Hogsmeade certainly.

"I think I'd like that a lot."

"Deal."

Entering into the hotel, they asked for Mr. and Mrs. Granger and were directed to their room. Hermione's parents welcomed them and ushered them into what was actually a large suite. They evidently didn't live on a tight budget.

"Delighted to see you again Harry."

"Thank you, sir. Me too."

"So, that was a heroic welcome we saw yesterday. It looks like you're all pretty famous now."

Harry raised his eyes to the ceiling and grinned.

"Yeah well, I'm not looking for it."

Mr. Granger's face suddenly turned sober.

"We received some explanations from Mr. Weasley, but perhaps you could go over what happened in some details for us?"

"And maybe, you can admit how dangerous it actually was," added her mother. Harry winced at that.

"We're not stupid," continued her husband seriously. "If so many people react as if a war had just been won, then you've been part of something important."

Hermione looked at Harry and wondered how much they could tell. There were no real secrets or menace anymore, but even without going into details, it was going to be a long story, and a scary one.

"Are you sure you want to know everything?" she asked.

They nodded gravely.

"Well, here goes ..."

She and Harry alternated talking for a long time, glossing over the fine points but giving them as faithful a telling as possible. The two adults grew more and more concerned as the story unfolded. They called a break for them to drink something before they got to the climax of the last days.

"Young lady, if we'd known any of that before, I don't know if you'd have been allowed back to that school," said Marc Granger with feeling.

"If she hadn't, then I'd probably be dead, and you would all have been in greater danger," answered Harry brutally. They looked shocked.

"Don't get me wrong," he continued. "I'd give my life for her without a thought, but the only way to stop Voldemort was to work together, and don't forget he was planning on killing all Muggle born wizards and witches."

Marc grunted. "I'll accept that I guess. But why would he want to do that?"

He shrugged.

"Blood prejudice. In a nutshell, he was a racist psycho."

The Grangers looked back with horror.

"These things happen," added Hermione. "Remember the Holocaust?" Marc nodded somberly.

"Do you want to continue this after lunch?" asked Mrs. Granger anxiously. She could see that both of them had gotten quite tense during the retelling.

"No. This last is the hardest part to tell, so please don't say anything. We'll answer all your questions afterwards."

They retraced the last few, from Hermione and Ginny's kidnappings to the final battle. When they finished, there was a long silence as the Grangers digested the extraordinary tale. Harry and Hermione sat on the couch. She'd moved to snuggle against him, and his arm was around her.

"This is really incredible," said Marc finally. Awe and respect showed in on his face. "I don't know what else to say."

"And you're both all right now?" asked Jane Granger.

"We're fine mom," said Hermione softly. She looked up toward Harry, and lost herself in his eyes. "Not a care in the world."

Marc grunted, and Jane felt a twinge in her heart, looking at them. Her little girl was living her own life.

No one said anything for a while. They just sat there, looking at each other. It wasn't really an awkward silence, but they simply preferred not to talk while they adjusted to the new situation. From the way the Grangers were looking at him, Harry felt that he had passed some kind of test. Hermione was relieved that her parents knew the truth, and that they appeared to handle it well.

"You were talking about some lunch," said Harry finally.

Marc blew a short breath and nodded. "Yeah, good idea that. We've reserved a table downstairs."

They stood up and went to the hotel's restaurant. The food was great, and they talked about happier subjects. The Grangers would be taking a Christmas vacation at a ski resort in France. They had planned of taking Hermione over there of course.

"Would you like to come with us, Harry?" asked Jane.

"I don't know. I can't ski."

"Come on. You're a great Quidditch player. Skiing is much easier," said Hermione.

"Well, all right then. I accept with pleasure. Thank you."

"Good. We'll be leaving in a week."

Harry nodded but he still looked doubtful. Hermione proposed that they buy some ski clothes later. She was euphoric at the idea of him joining them. He told himself that it would probably be real fun.

"And what are you going to do now?" asked Marc.

"Finish school of course," said Hermione. "Afterwards, who knows?"

"I know," said Harry mischievously. She shot him a warning look.

"Harry ..." she hissed.

He laughed.

"Okay, I won't say what it is, but I do have a very special project in planning."

"Nothing too dangerous I hope?" asked Jane.

"Well, I've done worse," he replied, ignoring Hermione's furious scowl. He could see that she was also fighting not to smile.

Marc had a sudden suspicion about what was going on. Harry had the kind of prankster's mind that he liked among his friends, and his daughter was reacting in the same manner as when someone played a joke on her.

"Would it be a long project?" he inquired, winking.

Harry beamed.

"Oh definitely. A life long committement you might say." Hermione groaned, which only confirmed her father's guess.

"Really?" Both men's eyes twinkled. Hermione decided to ignore them and took a sip of wine.

"But the result should be worth the effort." Harry's lips were beginning to twitch uncontrollably.

"And what do you think of Harry's idea my dear," her father asked his daughter, in the most innocent voice he could muster.

Hermione lowered her head in surrender. She knew she couldn't fight it anymore, and in truth she was flattered. She smiled sheepishly, but kept her eyes on her glass.

"Okay Mister Potter. I will let you say it."

Harry suddenly turned serious. He looked at her.

"Hermione?"

She raised her head slowly and looked at him. Despite her previous protest, she felt her stomach fluttering.

"When we finish school ..." he began.

She held her breath, and her lips opened ever so slightly. Jane and Marc looked on with wonder.

"I will ask you to marry me."

Hermione's lips trembled, and there was a sharp intake of breath from her mother. She ignored it, looking at his face instead. It was touching in its candor, and of course he meant everything he was saying. She also noted that he'd talked of asking, and not directly of marriage. He knew that it would make her feel more comfortable.

"Yes," she whispered. "I think that would be a good project."


	7. Chapter 6 Dinner at the Weasleys

_Second part of first day of Christmas vacation. Draco meets the Weasleys - all the Weasleys, and nothing but the Weasleys._

* * *

_**Chapter 6 - Dinner at the Weasleys**_

_Grimauld Place,_

"Are you ready?" Ginny's voice called out downstairs.

"We're just finishing. We'll be right down," answered Draco.

He masked his discomfort by fussing about Silena's robe. This was the moment he had tried not to think about since making his pact with Ginny. They were going to the Weasleys' house for what was presented as a _family dinner_, but he knew better.

He was Ginny's partner, a close friend of Ron and Harry, and he had played a major role in defeating their common enemy, but it was still difficult to think of the Weasleys as, well family.

Silena didn't really understand what the problem was, but she sensed some of her brother's anxiety.

"Is there something wrong with the dress?" she asked.

Since she had lost all her clothes, the only ones she had were loans from the other girls. Draco shook his head and forced a smile.

"No, no. You're fine. Let go down."

_All of them will be there. Even the older brothers. How are they going to react? How am _I_ going to react?_

He hoped he wouldn't appear disgusted at their house, and insult them in spite of himself. He'd never seen it directly, but the pictures had shown clearly that it wasn't anything like the kind of _home_ he was used to. If anything, it reminded him of Hagrid's shack, and he was never going to be comfortable in anything like that.

_I'm being irrational, Ginny and Ron are clean and well brought up persons, so their house is going to be something perfectly hygienic, if a little colorful. I will not let it faze me._

He composed himself, took Silena's hand, and started down the stairs where Ginny was waiting impatiently. There was a hint of a frown in her eyes.

He put on his most charming smile.

"Ready to go, love."

The fireplace had been reconnected to the floo network. He really hated traveling that way, but there was no simple alternative since Silena was too young to Apparate.

Ginny looked at him.

"You're not going to make a scene are you?" she asked warningly.

He shook his head, rigidly standing next to the mantelpiece.

"Draco..."

He knew that tone, nobody else would dare to use it on him, and in other circumstances, he would flare right back, but now he made a special effort.

"It's all right. I'm just a little nervous, that's all."

"Why should you be nervous at visiting my parents? You're not ..." She cut herself off. She'd almost said that he was not the son of a Death Eater anymore, but that would certainly not do.

She smiled gently and took his arm.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. Trust me. It's really going to be all right."

She kissed him softly, under the interested stare of Silena who grinned at them.

"And don't mind the house. I don't know if you'll like it, but you'll never have to live in it," she added with a wink.

He grinned sheepishly. Ginny took a pinch of powder.

"I'll go first, then Silena, then you. Remember the name. It's _'The Burrow'_. Say it out loud Silena."

"_The Burrow_!" enunciated the little girl.

Ginny nodded her appreciation and threw her powder down and spoke out the same. She disappeared into green flames.

Silena went, followed by the watchful eyes of her brother. Draco then took a deep breath, did the same, and emerged into the Weasleys' living room, faced by an impressive lineup of smiling red heads.

"Welcome to the Burrow, dear," called out Molly, energetically brushing off the soot from his clothes.

"Good evening, Mrs. Weasley, sir, everyone."

He would have preferred that she let him clean himself up, or at least that she be a little gentler about it. He inclined his head toward them. Fred and George sported big toothy grins, Percy was sober faced and the two others should be Bill and Charlie who were looking at him with friendly expressions. Ginny had given him a complete description of her family, but seeing them all at once was a shock all the same.

_Seven bloody children. They're completely mad._

He took in the rest of the room. It was not very big and crammed with colorful objects and visibly worn furniture. Small pictures and painting were everywhere. The walls didn't look quite straight, and even the furniture was strange. There didn't seem to be two chairs with the same shape.

Draco had expected the worse, but he was pleasantly surprised. It couldn't be any more different from anything in his experience, yet he didn't felt uncomfortable like at Grimauld. This house was evidently a wizard's home, and it was full of history and life. He glanced at Silena who stood at his side, intimidated.

He shook hand with all of them, and then Molly excused herself.

"I have to return to the kitchen, now. Silena and Ginny, would you like to come with me?"

Silena smiled shyly. Ginny took her hand and the three of them went out, leaving the men together.

Draco was alone, facing his judges. At least that was the way he suddenly felt.

"Come and have a seat," proposed Arthur genially. "Do make yourself at ease. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Er, yes please."

"Butterbeer or something stronger?"

_This is probably a test. If I ask for liquor they'll think I'm an alcoholic, and I better stay sharp minded in any case. Merlin knows I could use a real drink though._

"Butterbeer would be fine sir."

"Please, you can call me Arthur," said the man while passing him a tall frosted glass filled with ale.

"Thank you ... Arthur."

Fred and George moved a chair in the center of the room. Evidently, Draco wasn't the only one with tribunal ideas. Charlie intervened firmly, and the twins didn't insist.

Draco sat down, and waited awkwardly while everybody got something. They were all trying to be nice and pleasant, but the atmosphere was still a little tense. He tried not to think about what could be on their minds, facing the boy who was going out with 'little Ginny'.

_I wish she was here, or Harry or even Ron. This is just like them to be late when I could really use their help._

Bill tried to break the ice.

"I heard that there was quite a commotion at the train station yesterday."

"You can say that again," confirmed Arthur. "I believe you were almost grateful for Fudge for rescuing you," he added with a wink.

Draco grimaced and frowned at the memory.

"He had some nerve doing that. Of course he wanted to bask in the glory. Still it was a little overwhelming." More than that. Draco had felt a terrific thrill looking at that crowd cheering them on.

_That must be one of the things politicians crave. Having an audience going mad for you. I can only imagine what it must be like when you can control it._

He noticed Percy wincing at the mention of Fudge. He tried to steer the conversation on that subject.

"So, how are things back to the Ministry? If you can talk about it of course."

Arthur waived his hand in dismissal of any reasons for confidentiality.

"Total chaos of course. Howlers all over the place, asking for heads to roll. The Minister is working hard to build a coalition and the main thing going for him is that the opposition is so divided that nobody can make any headway." He stole a glance at Percy who seemed to be trying to hide behind his glass. "Do you want to say something Percy?"

The young man looked up at his father. He didn't know if he should mention his meeting with Fudge. He was still confused about it.

"You're the one who's been working close to him," said Fred, "you must have one of the best seats from which to watch the show."

"Quite so," added George. "Maybe you could even get us tickets."

"He's not giving you any rough time for what happened at the school?" asked Arthur in a concerned voice.

Percy finally found his voice.

"No, no," he replied. "He ..." He hesitated, then took a deep breath and recounted the discussion they had. When he had finished no one said anything for a moment.

"I don't believe it!" exploded Bill. "That man has no ... decency."

Draco was looking at Percy with a concentrated expression. He could not help but admire Fudge's maneuvering. What he'd said to Harry was true. Percy would never make it to Minister rank.

_It's plain that even now, he's still half convinced by such a ridiculous manipulation. He's never going to make it among those peoples. _

Draco thought that he however would have seen through Fudge's maneuvering immediately. He was already thinking of counter arguments that Percy should have used. He was only forgetting that it was always easier to know what to do afterwards. He noticed Arthur giving him a measured glance.

"That man is a very skilled political animal," said Arthur carefully. "It is amazing that he is so incompetent at everything else."

Draco smiled and some of his old arrogance showed.

"I'd call it specialization. He's concentrating on what's essential," he said without thinking.

Percy looked at him sharply.

"Essential. A Slytherin would appreciate of course," he murmured.

They all stared at him and he found himself blushing.

_Merlin! What have I done! Now, they're going to see me in the same light._

"A Slytherin would put such talent to better use," he added quickly, trying to recover.

"I seem to recall a similar tale about a Slytherin prefect," started Fred with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Yes, something about a bloodless _coup d'état_ on a train ..." added George.

"... The stuff of novels ..."

"... Even a bit of romance I'm told ..."

"... Of course we probably don't know all the details. Don't we George?"

"Yes Fred, but maybe we can guess some of the missing parts." They both turned toward him, like turrets zeroing on a target.

"Just say yes or no. Now my first question is-"

"What is this? An ambush?" interrupted Draco, frowning angrily. "None of this is any of your business." _I'm losing my temper. I've got to cool it down._

"Not even the romance part?" asked Bill wickedly.

"Boys!" said Arthur. "I remind you that Draco is a guest, and he should be treated accordingly."

They stopped, and he took the opportunity to get himself under control. An idea came to him, and he smiled dangerously.

"For the romance part, I suggest that we put the question to Ginny." He knew that the girl would hold her own. More than that, she would extract an appropriate and devastating vengeance on her brothers.

Fred and George knew it too. They exchanged a quick glance and raised their hands in surrender.

"Our _potential_ brother in law seems to have made a valid point, don't you think George?"

"Undoubtfully Fred. Should we let him off the hook?"

"Until we come up with plan B, yes."

Everyone laughed, including Draco. He was beginning to enjoy himself.

"But I don't mind telling a few stories," he continued. The twins' eyes became watchful as they guessed what was coming. "Some Hogwarts students are famous for their _entertaining_ talents."

"Now, I don't think-" started Fred.

"Okay, forget about plan B," said George, sporting a big smile and nudging his brother in the ribs.

"Yeah. Most of these stories are boring anyway ..."

"... And we are, ah, fully confident that our sister has made a good choice ..."

"... A very good choice."

Draco chuckled and turned toward Charlie.

"Ginny told me you work with dragons, now that's something I'd love to hear about..."

- - -

In the kitchen Silena looked at Molly apprehensively. In her experience, food preparation was the domain of House Elves, and her mother had always discouraged her to meddle in their business.

"Will you help us do the cooking?" asked Molly gaily. She was cutting vegetables in little pieces and throwing everything in a big wok on the stove fire.

The girl looked up at Ginny who nodded and strapped on an apron.

"What do I have to do?" she answered in a timid voice. Ginny selected a smaller apron and fixed it on her.

"You'll be doing the chocolate cake," said Molly. "You like that I hope?" The girl nodded eagerly. "Good. We'll need that big bowl over there and I'll tell you what to put in it."

Silena looked around to search for an Elf to command, but she couldn't see any. Not daring to question her host, she took the bowl and set it up on the main table. Ginny brought her boxes of flours and several eggs.

"Shouldn't we ask the Elves to do this," she whispered.

"There are no House Elves here," whispered back Ginny. "You'll be doing it all by yourself. It'll be fun you'll see," she added, as the girl's eyes opened in shock. "And afterwards you get to lick the bowl." She winked.

Silena wasn't too sure about that, but she thought it prudent to do as she was told. Ginny broke some chocolate bars into lumps and warmed them in a saucepan. She and Molly began to talk cheerfully about various recipes, charming the wok to stir automatically. They stopped occasionally to give her instructions or advice. Whipping the mixture was hard work, but when the chocolate was added it smelled very good. When she was finished, she looked on with interest as Molly transferred it to a cooking dish and placed that in the oven. When that was done Ginny took the bowl, recovered some paste with her finger and licked it. Molly turned toward the girl.

"Try it dear. I always say that it's the best part of cooking."

Silena dipped her finger carefully and barely touched the surface. She hesitated before tasting it but a smile quickly lit her face.

"That's good!" she said excitedly.

"Of course it is." The two women laughed affectionately. "Since you did all of the work, you'll have most of it, but I hope you'll share some with us."

Silena giggled and took another dip. They had been at it for a moment when Draco entered the kitchen. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw his little sister with a big grin, and chocolate all over her face.

"Draco! I made the cake and I got to lick the bowl."

"I can see that," he said with a wry smile. "I hope you didn't get any on your Veronica's dress robes."

"Nothing that won't wash away," assured Molly. "She's been a big help." Silena beamed at her.

"We're ready to have dinner if you guys have finished 'talking'," said Ginny. Draco rolled his eyes. "Did they go hard on you?" she added with a slight frown.

"I survived," he assured her. Apparently it wasn't the right thing to say because Molly's eyes suddenly flared with anger.

"Those _boys_," she said menacingly, "are going to have to understand that you are now a full member of the family and that …"

"Please!" he interrupted her and was he was getting ready to explain when her last words suddenly registered. He looked at the woman with serious eyes. "What did you just say?"

Ginny let go a squeal of joy and rushed to embrace her mother.

"I think you heard me right Draco Malfoy," said Molly calmly. He swallowed a lump in his throat while she continued. "Do you think I don't understand what happened between you two? I've watched you long enough." He was struck dumb and Ginny blushed vividly.

"Every parent dreads the day when their child brings back the person they have chosen for companion," Molly continued softly, looking fondly at her daughter. "The thing we dread the most is having doubts about that choice. I have no such doubts, even though Ginny is really very young." Before the girl could protest she raised her hand. "I know that you haven't felt like a little girl for some time, but that's something else." She paused a moment. "Anyway, you are part of our family, although I won't insist that you call me mother." She chuckled. "But I don't want to hear 'Mrs. Weasley' anymore." she added.

Draco looked at her. She was a formidable figure, and he knew that they were all in awe of her authority, even Harry, but she radiated motherly love. It was something he wasn't very familiar with, but which he struggled to appreciate.

"Mrs. Weas… Molly," he corrected himself. What he felt he ought to say was one of the hardest thing he had ever done, it easily compared with his encounter with the avatar of Salazar Slytherin.

_It's only words, and you mean them. What's so difficult?_

He took a deep breath.

"I truly love Ginny dearly, and nothing would please me more than to be part of your family …" he stopped because the emotion in her eyes, and the look of pure tenderness that Ginny was giving him, was more than he could stand.

"Hey! What about me?" exclaimed Silena, breaking the mood. Molly turned toward her.

"Well of course you're part of the family too. You didn't think we would leave you out?"

"I won't call you mother because you're not my mother," said the little girl primly, oblivious to the twinge of pain on Molly's face at the clumsy words, "But can I call you mum like Ginny does?" she asked ingenuously.

Molly felt her heart completely melt away, and she engulfed the child in her arms. Ginny walked toward Draco and snuggled up to him.

"Cooked! I'm Cooked!" screamed the wok suddenly. "I'm cooked! Put out the fire! Quick! I'm cooked."

Draco and Silena stared at the thing in stupefaction, while Molly quickly rescued the dish.

_These people are going to drive me crazy._

"Go and get the others, dears. It's time to set up the table."


	8. Chapter 7 Helen

_Silena wants to be with her friends. An innocent request that will set several things in motion, and introduce an important character._

* * *

_**Chapter 7 - Helen**_

_Grimauld Place,_

"Hermione, can you help me please?"

Hermione looked up from her reading of the _Daily Prophet_ which had just been delivered, along with several letters and other magazines. Silena was standing before her, a piece of paper in her hand. The others were in the living room, laughing together in their quest for the perfect decoration.

"Yes. What is it?"

"I'd like to call my friends. You remember that you said we could invite each other?" She showed the slip Richard had given her on the train. "They told me that this is for the _fone_, and that you'd know how to use it."

Hermione looked at it and smiled.

"It's a telephone number. It's used to communicate among Muggle."

"How does it work?"

"We need to find a telephone, that's a small machine with numbered buttons on it. They have one in their home. We'll type the numbers on the paper and their phone will ring and then we can talk."

Silena accepted this. To her it was just Muggle magic.

"Where do we find a _telefone_?"

"Hum, I've got a mobile one, but it doesn't work here. We'll just have to go outside the house."

"Is it like the wards where you can't Apparate?"

"Yes kind of." Hermione didn't try to explain how magic interfered with electrical phenomena. She didn't really understand it either.

At number 7, Grimauld Place, there was a small coffee shop. It was never very crowded, and they could usually count on finding a free table in the back. Not the best place to make a phone call, but it was workable.

"Hello?"

"Good morning. Am I at Alicia and Richard Parker's home?" asked Hermione. Silena watched her speaking in the little box.

"Yes, this is her mother speaking." The voice sounded young and cheerful.

"Hello Mrs. Parker. My name is Hermione Granger, we've meet the other day at the train station. I'm calling on behalf of Silena. She's a friend of Alicia and Richard."

"Oh yes. They've been at me since the start of the vacation. I've heard a lot about you, Miss Granger. Please call me Helen. The children would be delighted to have Silena come with us for a few days, and so would I."

"That's very nice of you. We'd like to return the favor as well, maybe after Christmas. How do you suggest we proceed?"

"Why don't I come over this afternoon and pick her up? You're in London I believe."

"Er, yes. At 12, Grimauld Place, but, ah, the house is not very easy to find. Perhaps the best meeting place is a small bar at number 7. We'll wait for you there." Hermione didn't want to go into the explanations of the _Fidelus_ spell. "Shall we say after lunch, at around two o'clock?"

"That's fine for us. See you later then."

Silena was jumping with excitement. Hermione calmed her down and tried to think on how she would solve the Secret Keeper protection. There was no choice. She would have to ask professor Dumbledore for some assistance. They went back inside the house and she flooed his office.

"Yes? Good morning my dear." The kindly features of the Headmaster appeared in the flames.

"Good morning, Professor Dumbledore. I hope I'm not disturbing anything?"

"Not at all. It is always a pleasure to talk with you, Hermione. How can I be of service?"

She explained her problem.

"Ah yes. I understand. We should really transfer the Secret Keeping to one of you. However that will take a little time. For now, I will just write you another note."

"Thank you very much sir."

"You are quite welcome, please hold on a minute." His face disappeared and when it came back, part of his arm extended from the flames as well, holding a folded slip of paper. "Since I have you at hand, I wonder if I could bother you with a small request of my own?"

"Of course, sir."

"We will not need to use your house for the Order's meetings anymore, but there are a number of things which we stored over there, and that I would like to recover. Could someone come and get it today?"

"Yes, sir. No problem at all. Don't you want us to bring it to you? It would be no trouble."

"Your offer is very generous, but you might have some difficulties with the more, ah, exotic items." He smiled. "It should not take long. Oh, and before I forget, we should also discuss Silena's schooling."

"Yes."

"Although she is still a little young, I think it would be best if she entered the school with the other first years. The Sorting Hat places her in Slytherin of course, but she did miss the whole of the first term."

"Would you like me to organize some tutoring for her?"

The old wizard's face broke into a grateful smile.

"If you could do that it would be a fine thing indeed. She already knows some magic. With a little help, it should be possible for her to follow classes normally."

"I'll see to that with Draco, sir."

"Splendid. Well, let me wish you a very good day then. Thank you very much, my dear."

"You're very welcome. Good day, sir."

_Okay. I didn't have anything planned today, but I guess this just took care of that. A least I've got the time to read the papers._

She returned to browsing the _Prophet_ again. Most of it was rubbish these days. A lot of pompous announcements by the Ministry of Magic and other officials. One dispatch did catch her eye. Frowning, she went back to the pile of mail. She had not paid any attention to the elaborate shield and sword seal on one letter, but putting two and two together, she quickly opened the thick parchment envelop, and took a look at the content.

_Holy ghost!_

"Harry! Ron!" she yelled, storming out of the room.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Dumbledore stood up from the fireplace and chuckled pleasantly to himself. He went to his desk and took the folded letter on it. While he read it once more, he selected a long white candy from a bowl and started to chew it. Fawkes screeched from his perch. He looked up, to see the bird opening a large hungry beak. Smiling, he took another candy and threw it to the Phoenix, who caught it deftly.

"Albus, you are incorrigible," said the picture of Phineas Nigellus.

"And what do you mean by that, sir?" said the Headmaster, affecting an innocent expression. "Fawkes likes sweets as much as I."

"You know what I mean. I've watched over you for more than fifty years, so don't try to pretend with me."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it, old friend, and since you know me so well, there is nothing I can add." He chuckled again and turned toward the exit, the letter still in his hand. "But if you will excuse me, I have an appointment at this moment."

"Give my regards to professor Snape," murmured Phineas. Dumbledore waived casually and left the office.

- - -

A double knock made Severus look up from the mixture he was brewing.

"Come in."

The door opened, and Dumbledore's head appeared.

"Good morning, Severus. I wonder if you could spare me a moment?" he asked softly.

"Of course, Albus. Please make yourself at ease."

He quickly cast a holding spell on the bubbling potion and gestured to a pair of seats next to the fireplace. Dumbledore considered him, noting the apparent serenity in his attitude. He wondered how deep the layer of calm was, and what was underneath.

"I find you in very good shape my friend," he said. "A few days of rest have truly done wonders."

Severus nodded. He did feel better. The menace which had hung over them all, and over him in particular, was no more. He could start living once again.

_Not even once again. I've never really lived as a free man._

He was as content as he could ever remember being. Which is to say that he was not furious, or in mortal danger, or lost in pain and despair. Happiness was a very relative thing for Severus Snape.

"I am fine," he said simply.

Dumbledore nodded and glanced at the cauldron. With the holding spell active, the smoke and the flames were frozen in place. He identified some of the ingredients, and a look of interest came over his face.

"I do not believe I am familiar with that particular recipe. Is it something new?"

"An old project I've restarted."

Severus' eyes brightened as he explained it to the Headmaster. A few weeks ago he had decided to catch up on his correspondence with other Potion Masters. A former student had asked his opinion on an original use of powdered dragon bones, something on which he had been working, a few years back. Their discussion was turning into a full scale research project, and he was even considering doing part of it as his NEWT classes.

"It is good to see you with such enthusiasm, Severus," said Dumbledore after listening to him. The other man started to grimace, but for once the Headmaster raised his hand and didn't pretend to ignore it.

"I am quite serious. You have shouldered a very heavy burden these past years, and you have turned out very well indeed. As godfather, professor ... and friend."

"I did my duty," muttered the other man stiffly.

"Much more than that, Severus. A great deal of the credit of what happened belongs to you, and so for once I will approve Fudge's decision." With a flourish, he produced the letter he had been carrying. Severus raised an interrogative eyebrow and took it.

_By decision of the Minister of Magic, and with the approval of the Wizengamot, for heroic services rendered above and beyond the call of duty, the following wizards and witches are to be awarded:_

_Harry Potter : Order of Merlin first class_

_Severus Snape : Order of Merlin first class_

_Ronald Weasley : Order of Merlin second class_

_Hermione Granger : Order of Merlin second class_

_Luna Lovegood : Order of Merlin second class_

_Ginevra Weasley : Order of Merlin second class_

_Draco Malfoy : Order of Merlin second class_

_The ceremony will take place on January the 19th, in the hall of honor of the Auror Academy._

He was astonished, and torn between embarrassment and pride. The Order of Merlin was the greatest decoration in the wizard world. Every wizard with the least amount of ambition, and that meant any Slytherin, _dreamed_ of having it.

"I hope you are not thinking of refusing," said Dumbledore softly.

Severus jerked up. Then he remembered that the old man could read him like an open book. Of course he would accept the medal. That wasn't the question he was asking.

"I know what your problem is, Severus," continued the old wizard, ignoring the other wizard's frown. "Your role in life was clear up to now. You were a soldier and an instructor during a deadly war, and you performed brilliantly. Now that peace has come, you wonder if you will be as good."

Severus gave him a cold stare.

"You think that you know me that well?"

"Yes."

He was startled. The Headmaster was _never_ so forthright. He tried to shrug it off.

"Life goes on. I do not expect any difficulties in-"

"You should," interrupted Dumbledore, again something he very rarely did. He fixed him with piercing eyes. "Do you realize what you have lost?"

Severus was becoming annoyed, but the man's words also had a very disturbing effect on him.

_What is he doing?_

"I do not understand."

Dumbledore's face was quite serious. There was nothing aggressive in his manner but he evidently considered this conversation to be something important.

"You have lost the foundation upon which your life stood. You have lost the targets for your anger. Surely you are aware of how significant they were?"

Severus and Albus were skilled in Legimency, and they had known each other through many years and crisis. They could hide some things, but they could not lie to each other, and when one spoke the truth, the other knew it. The reality behind these words made Severus reel in confusion.

"Sealing your peace with Harry took away the first target, defeating Voldemort removed the other."

_He's right. The force driving me was the rage against those who had ruined my life. They are no more._

"I ..." He was confused.

"You do not need that anger Severus," went on the Headmaster. "You can find much better things on which to anchor your life. When you understand this, then you will able to become what you should have been." He jabbed a finger at him. "_You_ will be the one to take my place, when the time comes."

_Take his place?_

"Professor McGonagall ..." he began.

"Professor McGonagall is my deputy, but she does not wish to become Headmaster. We have discussed this, and she agrees with me that you would be a better choice." He smiled. "In a few years' time of course," he added.

"The reason I am here," continued Dumbledore firmly, "is to tell you that you are a gifted teacher, a fine wizard, and a good man. That was not always the case, but it is now." He stood up. "I realize that not everybody, least of all yourself, knows this, but it is time that you accept it."

For once, Severus literally didn't know what to say. He simply looked back numbly at the Headmaster who stood up. Dumbledore suddenly raised a finger, as if he had forgotten something.

"Oh, before I go, I have a minor request to ask of you."

"Sir?" The response was pure reflex.

"We will not be using Grimauld Place anymore, but the basement still contains a great deal of equipment for the Order. Could you please see to it that it be transferred to a safer place here?"

Severus blinked several times while he struggled to recover his wits.

"Yes, sir. I will contact Harry about it." His voice was strained, but obedience to the Headmaster was automatic.

Dumbledore smiled and waived his hand in an airy gesture of dismissal.

"This is no need for that. I already spoke with Miss Granger. It can be done this afternoon. She assured me that it would not be an inconvenience. I suggest that you ask Remus and Miss Tonks to help you."

"As you wish."

"That will be fine then. Have a good day, my friend."

He left, and Severus was alone once again, confused thoughts whirling in his head. He tried to return to his potion project, but it was impossible. He would lift the holding spell, fuss a little over the cauldron, and realize that he just couldn't concentrate. Then he would re-cast the spell, go back to his desk and try to understand what in Merlin's name was the matter with him. He did this twice and then just stopped trying to work. He simply sat in his favorite chair, watching the flames in the fireplace.

Severus Snape was far from stupid. It didn't take him long to realize that the Headmaster had done this deliberately, and to recall the similarity with the treatment he had himself applied to a certain Slytherin student.

_Except that the Gryffindor way is to stun you with kind words._

What Dumbledore wanted him to do was clear enough. Get on with his life, and put the lost years behind him.

_The old meddler just can't let things alone._

Perhaps it was more complicated than that. The Headmaster was not given to simple plans and single objectives. Wheels within wheels were second nature to him, but he was usually patient and subtle. Why did he speak so bluntly?

_Because I was vulnerable, and he knew his words would be effective._

He didn't imagine for an instant that there was any sinister purpose behind it.

_Of course it's for my own good!_

Resentment flared in him. He'd never liked for others to influence him. Especially _for his own good_. After all, it implied that he wasn't able to think properly for himself. That he had to be prodded to do the right thing. The anger subsided and was replaced by fear and doubt.

_Get on with my life. Become the next Headmaster._

He had no problem with the second objective, he was still a Slytherin after all, but he knew that the two things were linked. If he wanted the latter, then he would have to succeed in the former.

_Am I really capable of it?_

He was thirty seven years old. That was still young, especially for a wizard. But he did not _feel_ young. Did the _Voldemort Incident_ burn out all the fun and life out of him?

_I made Draco confront his life. The least I can do is face mine as well._

He looked around at the room. These weren't uncomfortable quarters, but there was no spark in them. He tried to find something in the room which could not be said to exist for working, practical every day use, or the keeping of traditions. His eyes fell on the charcoal drawing on the wall. It showed the school buildings from a side perspective. It was probably the most personal thing he had, and it was a gift. The Headmaster had given it to him during his first year as a teacher.

_When is the last time I went and bought something for myself, aside from necessities?_

He couldn't remember. Suddenly, it seemed a very frightening thing to realize.

Severus sat silently and watched the logs burning.

- - -

_Grimauld place,_

Hermione burst into the living room, where the others were playfully trying out color combinations for the wallpaper, floor and furniture. The current result was atrocious, and their efforts appeared to have degenerated into a contest for the gaudiest mess. In other circumstances, she would have disapproved vocally, but something more important was on her mind.

"Didn't you read the _Prophet_?" she asked.

"Hermione, I stopped reading that crap days ago," said Ron. "At least the _Quibbler_'s stories are fun."

"Well, maybe you'll find this amusing then."

She showed him the page with the announcements. He barely glanced at it. The papers had been full of those for the last days. This one mentioned an 'uplifting' ceremony planned by the Aurors Corps.

"So what?"

She handed him the opened letter for an answer. Ron made a face, but took it anyway. Half a second later his mouth was hanging open, and his eyes had doubled in size. Intrigued, Ginny moved closer to take a look herself.

"Merlin's beard!"

The others joined in, and soon they were all snatching the letter from each other as they read their names over and over again.

"Severus is nominated too," whispered Ginny.

Hermione hugged Harry fiercely. "And you've got the Order of Merlin First Class! Like Dumbledore."

"Oh boy, oh boy. OH BOY!" Ron was rubbing his hands together with an enormous grin on his face.

The house decoration didn't seem very important anymore. Ginny and Ron rushed to floo their parents. The others looked at each other with incredulous smiles.

Draco had a dreamy, awed expression. "When did they say the ceremony was?"

"In January. We'll be back at school."

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Severus finally roused himself. He threw a pinch of floo powder in the fire. "_Remus Lupin._" He waited a few seconds.

"Yes? Hello there, Severus."

"Good morning. Did the Headmaster talk to you about transferring the Order's equipment from Grimauld?"

"Yes he did. He suggested we do it this afternoon. What time would be convenient for you?"

"I have a little brewing I need to finish first. How about three o'clock?"

"Fine, we'll meet over there then."

- - -

_Grimauld,_

Lunch took longer than usual, because the Elves had done some extra cooking to celebrate the good news. Hermione suddenly noticed the time when the clock chimed, and she precipitately ran out of the House to wait for the Parkers.

Their car was already there, and the three of them were looking around, perplexed at the missing Number 12. They were getting ready to go into the bar when Alicia spotted Hermione.

"There you are! But were did you come from?"

"It's a bit complicated to explain," said Hermione, handing them the slip of paper Dumbledore had given her. "Just read this quickly, the three of you, please."

They did so and gasped in amazement as the house suddenly materialized before them, weirdly displacing the other buildings at numbers 10 and 14. The children didn't stay fazed long, but Helen Parker kept a puzzled look on her face until she went inside.

Silena welcomed her friends joyfully. Helen was introduced to the rest of the assembly. Alicia and Richard looked around with curiosity, but the house didn't seem particularly exciting.

"Would you like some coffee?" proposed Hermione.

"With pleasure. Thank you."

They went into the kitchen. The table had been cleared except for a large cake.

"We didn't finish dessert," explained Silena. "Do you want some?" The twins agreed enthusiastically but Helen refused politely.

They proceeded to get to know each other over the coffee. Helen was a rather tall woman with short blond hair. She had a very fit figure and the healthy tone of skin associated with frequent outdoor living. She told them a little about herself. She was a Muggle scientist, teaching and doing research in biochemistry. Hermione ears pricked up at that, and she made a mental note to discuss her pet magical theories with her later.

The children asked permission to follow Silena to her room and left quickly. Helen explained how she had married a Wizard twelve years ago.

"And what does your husband do?" asked Harry.

A shadow crossed her face. "He's dead," she said softly.

An awkward silence followed. Harry kicked himself. _This is called putting your foot in it._

"I'm sorry," he stammered.

She just looked a little sad. "It's all right. It happened a long time ago, soon after the children were born."

Luna reached out and touched Helen's arm. She projected comfort, and it seemed to help because Helen's face softened.

"We know what it is to lose loved ones," said the girl. "I lost my mother, Silena, Harry and Draco lost their parents. It's not the same, but we can sympathize."

"Thank you." She forced a happier expression on her face. "Let's rather talk about you. The twins told me you've saved the world single handedly."

Harry and Draco chuckled and the others grinned.

"Well, since it was a group effort," said Harry. "It should be at least six handedly."

"Or twelve," added Hermione.

- - -

Silena had been showing the house to her friends. They'd laughed at the mess in the living room. It hadn't been changed from the morning's experiments. They passed quickly over the rooms reserved for them, nothing special there. She led them to the 'work' rooms on the third floor.

"Don't touch anything," she said as Richard examined the library and Alicia peeked into the laboratories. "I don't really know if we're allowed to be there."

Richard was convinced that the house could be as plain as it looked. It was the home of some of the most powerful wizards and witches of England after all. It had to be something more than just a simple villa. He checked behind a cupboard to try and see if there wasn't a secret passageway.

"Yeah, you're right. We'll have time later." He was quite decided to come back here and explore any 'secrets' which might be lurking.

"Come on. I'll show you the garden and the pool."

"A pool?"

"Yes, and there's a Quidditch pitch too!"

"Whoa! Do you think that they'll let us play?"

They went outside, but of course the pool was closed up and the Quidditch area was deserted. They'd have to ask for brooms in any case. The garden was big enough for a playground however, and a snowball battle was just as satisfying to them.

- - -

In the kitchen Helen and the others had sipped coffee and talked a little more. The conversation returned to the vacation planning for the children.

"Oh my, I almost forgot," recalled Hermione. "Dumbledore told me that Silena was to be schooled with the first years, in Slytherin."

"Of course she is," replied Draco. "What other choice is there?"

"Well, she missed the first term, so we'll have to help her catch up." She turned toward Helen. "Do you think that Alicia and Richard could review some of their classes with her?"

"I don't see why not. Why don't we call them in?"

The children were searched for and finally located. They were wet, highly excited, and very cold. Winky made them some hot chocolate, while Hermione went to retrieve her first year textbooks.

Helen examined the potion manual with interest. She hadn't had the time to examine her children's books yet. She tried to apply some of her professional knowledge to the subject.

"I wonder how much of that is 'normal' chemistry and how much is pure magic?" she asked.

"I don't know," replied Hermione thoughtfully. "But it's a good question. Can you identify some active constituents in these ingredients?"

Harry and Ron exchanged amused looks. It was more than a week since her last class. Hermione must be suffering from a deficit of academic exercises, and she was being given a unique opportunity to indulge in her favorite pastime. Ron and Ginny took the occasion to leave the room.

The two were wrapped up in their conversation, and freely associating concepts from both worlds, when the silky voice of Severus startled them.

"What exactly are you talking about Miss Granger?" he asked.

She turned around guiltily. The potion master was looking at the opened text books and scowling furiously. He had certainly heard enough to realize what they had been discussing.

"Oh, Good afternoon professor. I, hum, _we_ were discussing tutoring for Silena since the Headmaster told us ..."

"I know of her transfer," he interrupted. "Do you intent to make up for her lost schooling by teaching her _biochemistry_?" he sneered.

"Certainly not sir. The discussion was purely for my benefit," answered Helen, unfazed.

He turned his eyes upon her. "Madam?" he asked with distant politeness.

Draco rushed to make the presentations. "Sir. Mrs. Parker is the mother of Alicia and Richard. She's a scientist at the, ah, Imperial College. Mrs. Parker, this is professor Snape, the head of Slytherin House, Hogwarts' potion and defense master, and my godfather."

"Delighted to meet you professor," said Helen, holding out her hand.

"The pleasure in mine," he murmured. Barely touching her hand before letting it go. "Am I to understand that you are ..."

"She's a Muggle of course, sir," supplied Luna. He glared at her

"I'd be very interested in pursuing this exchange with you professor," continued Helen. "This textbook seems to be a very good practical introduction, but there is not much on theory. I'm curious. Could your area of work have some common points with mine?"

Severus made a heroic effort not to show how preposterous he thought the idea was. He reminded himself that he was a guest in another's house, after all.

"It is ... possible," he managed to say. From the corner of his eye he saw Harry fighting to control himself, and a flash of annoyance filled his mind.

_Why is it that, every time we see each other, I get into these ridiculous situations._

"I do a lot of experimental research in my line of work, and I find that mixing disciplines often gives powerful insights," continued Helen.

That at least was not unreasonable. _I better just say anything to end this humiliating exchange as quickly as possible._

"Certainly," he said with his best fake smile. Draco made a strangled noise, and Severus struggled to ignore him.

_They must have planned this. I swear, I'll find the most repulsive job for them to do when they return. The snake vivarium hasn't been cleaned in... _

"For example I was wondering what happened when a non magical person mixes one of these potions? Following the instructions perfectly of course."

"I beg your pardon?" _What did she say!_

She repeated calmly, and this time he listened, and was astonished to realize that he didn't have the slightest idea what the answer was.

"That's a good question all right," added Hermione. "I've wondered myself if there wasn't some implicit principles in potion making that everyone overlooked."

_Goodness, all I need now if for Granger to put her two bits in. This is too much._

_But _it is_ a bloody good question all the same._

Severus was torn between rising intellectual curiosity, and extreme awkwardness at not being able to answer a seemingly simple question about his own field of competence. Then there was also the matter of doing the job for which he'd come here in the first place. All three things concurred to make him want to leave the room as fast as possible.

"If you will excuse me," he said hastily. "I have something very important to attend to."

Seeing him leave so briskly, Helen raised her eyebrow in interrogation and turned toward the others. They waited until the man was safely out of earshot before answering. Harry fell down on the floor, raked by silent guffaws as he allowed himself to release his rigid control. Draco was slumped on the table. His head was buried in his arms, and his shoulders were shaking with mirth. Luna was smiling and Hermione looked annoyed.

"Don't mind him," said Harry, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. "Professor Snape is not a simple man to understand."

"And don't mind us either," added Draco, catching his breath. "Contrary to what you might think, we really like and respect each other a lot, but between you and Hermione, you've just pushed every button he has, and he couldn't do anything. I was so funny to watch and ... _pfff._" He exploded in laughter again.

"Boy, are we going to catch hell for that," added Harry. "But it was worth it ... _pfff_."

Hermione raised her eyes to the ceiling. "Boys!" she said in exasperation.

"He does seem rather unusual," asked Helen. "What kind of a teacher is he?"

Hermione started to explain. The boys' muffled laughs were getting on her nerves, so she took her aside to give as objective a description of professor Snape as she could.

- - -

Coming out the kitchen, Severus ran into Remus and Tonks as they arrived.

"Severus. Congratulation man," said Remus jovially. "We just received the good news." Severus realized that must be showing a strange expression, because they were looking at him as if he was not quite sane. "Er, you must have heard about it as well, yes?"

_Of course, the Order of Merlin._ He waved in hand negligently, as if such a matter was completely trivial.

"Severus, are you all right?" asked Tonks.

_I need to get a grip on myself._

They saw him take a thundering breath and force a determined expression on his face.

"I'm fine. Never better. How are you two doing?"

"Severus ..." started Remus slowly, inquisitive concern all over his face.

The other wizard ignored it. "Come on. Let's get rid of this chore," he said firmly, moving rapidly toward the basement.

Remus looked at Tonks who shrugged, as perplexed as he was. They followed their colleague to the hidden room where the Order had prepared a cache of emergency equipment. Several heavy chests were lined up along one wall. Miscellaneous boxes and knapsacks had been piled on top of them in one corner. There was also some food and obvious medical equipment.

"Most of these belong to Hogwarts," explained Severus. "It was stored here when Umbridge took over the school." He indicated the pile of boxes. "You two can start on that first. The chests are warded and can't be moved as they are. I'll de-activate the protections."

Tonks and Remus started to evacuate the light stuff. He walked to the first chest, took out his wand and spoke the proper incantations. While he worked, his mind returned to the subject that the Muggle woman had raised.

_What was her name again? Ah yes, Helen. Helen Parker. A scientist._

His knowledge of such people was limited. Few wizards relied on logic. Magic depended foremost on literal knowledge and a proper mental attitude. Wizards learned by rote, followed their intuitions and practiced assiduously. Only a small number of them attempted to understand basic principles behind their trade, and those that did rarely showed something for it. Hermione Granger tried constantly, but her success was mainly due to her superb memory and her capacity for work.

"Careful with that box," said Remus, "I don't think the lid ..."

_CRASH!_

"Damn!"

They turned anxiously toward Severus, anticipating a blistering retort, but he wasn't paying them any attention. He finished the first chest and checked absently that it had been safely un-warded.

_Even in potions we barely classify the different ingredients into categories. In most cases, it would not make any sense. Everyone does the same thing: find a recipe in a book and try it out, and eventually experiment with minor variations._

He prided himself on his intelligence, but he used it in other areas, psychology and survival for example. Research in magical matter was mostly a matter of trying to discover secrets hidden by other wizards.

_Have all known spells and potions been created by trial and error? That doesn't seem very efficient._

Charms and Arithmancy were the only exceptions he could think of. Charms and Runes could be combined with little interference, but they were the practically the only type of magic which could. It was one of the reasons why they were so useful.

Potions couldn't be combined safely in most cases.Developing new potions was a long and dangerous work. Mix incompatible ingredients together, and a catastrophic outcome could result.

_If there was a way to combine potions like runes, it would be a major breakthrough._

If he could find how to do that, then he would be remembered as one of the greatest wizards. Such fame and prestige would matter much more than being one of the helpers of the Dark Lord's demise. It would be a fitting achievement for a future Headmaster.

"Severus?"

He came out of his reverie. "Yes?"

"Have you finished with the chests?"

He frowned. "What chests?"

_That woman could help me. She seems curious enough. Maybe she has the training to analyze this problem. We could start by answering her question, although I don't think that..._

Severus Snape had an Eureka moment, right then in the damp basement. He shut out the outside world completely and struggled to specify his idea clearly.

_If Muggles can mix potions, then Muggle science can probably help me analyze the phenomena. If they can't, then a Muggle, or Muggle machinery could mix ingredients safely, which could then be used by a Wizard._

Either way it opened a whole new dimension in potion making.

"Severus!"

He vaguely focused on the man in front of him.

"What's the matter with you?"

He looked at Remus, and remembered where he was and what he was supposed to be doing, and dismissed it immediately.

"I am sorry. There is something extremely urgent which I must do right away. Can I leave you to finish this?"

"Now listen-" Remus didn't look happy.

"Please. I will make it up to you later. The wards are the same ones that Moody likes to use. You should have no trouble. Just store everything in my office. I will take care of the rest."

He raced up the stairs, hoping that the woman hadn't left yet. The kitchen was empty but sounds of laughter were coming from the living room. He rushed there, and stopped horrified at the garish display of primary colors. The students had explained to Helen what they had been trying to do, and even Hermione had finally consented to join in the fun. She hadn't done anything yet, but she was getting ready to try her hand at it, standing in the middle of the room with her wand in her hand.

"Merlin's beard! Miss Granger Why is it that each time I come upon you, I am reminded of a lunatic asylum?"

Hermione blushed furiously and tried to explain the situation. He cut her off.

"It does not matter. This is your house and you can decorate it as you see fit. I would however suggest warning signs on the doors. If the late Nigellus ever realized what you have been doing to his former dwelling, he would never allow you to visit the Headmaster's office again."

Hermione was mortified. She thought frantically about what she could do, and flashed her wand around her. The wall turned from electric blue to grey, the red leather chairs and sofa became night black, and the carpet changed to a deep green color. Magically speaking, it was a masterful demonstration of Transfiguration. The artistic result however was less than appealing.

Severus closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. The very picture of long suffering patience.

"Miss Granger, I know that I favor black robes, and I will admit that sunbathing is not my favorite activity, but I am not a vampire, and I don't think any of you would wish to live in a funeral parlor." He opened his eyes and looked at her severely. "I am certain that you can do better than that."

Hermione gulped and waved her wand again. When she finished, the furniture was light brown and the wallpaper pale yellow. Draco pitched in and finished off some minor details, adding soft green tones to the remaining fixtures.

"Perhaps we can leave it at that for the moment," murmured Severus. Hermione twisted her mouth in apology. Doing his best not to smirk, he turned toward Helen.

"Mrs. Parker, please accept my apologies for having left you so brusquely. I have given some thought to your question, and to my immediate knowledge no one has ever explored the possibility you have suggested."

She looked graciously back at him.

"It might very instructive to experiment on this matter," he continued. "Would you be interested in a, ah, scientific, cooperation?"

He tried not to pay attention to Harry's expression of bewilderment.

"I'd be delighted. What do you propose?"

"I will have to think some more about the practical details, and perhaps you will have suggestions as well. Could we meet again in a few days?"

Helen looked at Hermione. "I'll be coming back here with the children on Monday, after Christmas. Would that be agreeable?"

"You would be very welcome to use our laboratory," proposed Hermione, in a bid to shore up her lost standing with the professor. "It's not that big, but it's quite adequate for simple potion work."

"I can confirm that sir," added Draco.

Severus hesitated. Working here had some advantages, while bringing a Muggle to Hogwarts was complicated. His main objection was that he didn't want any other wizard, or witch, to look too closely at what he was trying to do. It was _his_ project after all. His eyes fell on Harry.

"It would be an honor to be of assistance professor," affirmed the boy, flashing his annoying smile.

"That is quite generous of you."

"We could even help out ..." Hermione started.

Some of his reluctance must have shown, because Harry's hand touched her briefly and she stopped.

"... but maybe you'd prefer to work alone," she finished, throwing a puzzled look at her boyfriend.

Severus wondered briefly if Harry could, by some fluke, read his mind at will. It wasn't a prospect he found comforting.

"That might be preferable, Miss Granger, but I thank you for your offer nonetheless."

He nodded toward Helen.

"I will see you here on Monday then. Now if you'll excuse me, I really must be going back to my work."

He left the room and all eyes turned upon Helen who looked back with a perplexed expression on her face.

"Great Gulping Gargoyles!" exploded Ron, expressing the common sentiment.

- - -

_London,_

Silena' first contact with her friends' world was the definitively non magical reality of the London rush hour traffic. At one point, she asked plaintively why Helen's car could not zip between the lanes, like she had seen the Ministry cars do. The response was frustrating since none of the Parkers had ever heard of magical cars, and she was hard pressed to clarify the phenomena. By that time, she was getting used to incomprehensible subjects, and she dropped it.

She didn't really know what to think of Muggles but one thing was certain. There were many of them.

The twins used the lengthy trip to describe their world to her, at least as much as they could. Strange concepts danced in her head. _Petrol engine? Electric current?_

If anyone asked her, she would remember that these strange metallic carriages needed a special exploding potion to operate, and that there was some strange liquid called _electricity_ which flowed inside very small, flexible metal tubes, and made small transparent orbs shine brightly.

Hermione had given Helen some money with which to buy some standard Muggle clothes. They stopped at a department store for this and other miscellaneous supplies, and so it was well after nightfall when they finally made it to the Parkers' flat. Helen cooked them a quick dinner, and the children were sent off to bed.

Finally alone, she reflected silently about the events of the day. It had been her first real contact with wizards since Ethan had died. A long time had passed, and she had put those memories away.

Ethan Parker had been a young official, working in the Department of Muggle relations. They had met by chance, when she found herself an accidental and interested witness to an embarrassing _Uncontrolled Magical Event_ as he called it.

Normal procedure would have been to obliviate her, but she had innocently offered her help, and it had proved useful. Instead of having had to ask for reinforcements, Ethan had been able to clean out most of the mess, while Helen had held out most of the bystanders at bay. Out of gratitude and sympathy, he had let her go, agreeing that she wouldn't be able to prove anything should she ever decide to go to the Muggle authorities. He'd also told her that in that case, they would erase her memories. She'd pledge her silence and proposed that they see each other again. One thing had led to another, and they had gotten married. It had been exciting and fun, but it had only lasted little more than two years. All that remained from it were Richard and Alicia, and memories.

She'd cut all links with this strange universe. Grief had been part of it, but there had been other reasons as well. A cold and unsympathetic Ministry woman had explained to her that the progeny of Muggles and Wizards did not automatically inherit magical powers. She would be notified if that was the case, but until then, it was better for the children to be kept away from the magical community. The few wizards and witches, whom she'd known as friends of Ethan, had also been advised to stay away from her. She'd accepted the decision, and closed off that part of her life. It had been painful but she had done it.

Over the years, Helen had rebuilt her life around new projects. The memories had grown hazy, and she had tried not to dwell of them, looking outward with resolute energy. It had paid off. She hadn't remarried, but at thirty two, she was still young. She had a lot of friends and a challenging job. Alicia and Richard had been told a minimum about their father, and the three of them lived as a happy family.

The previous summer, the past had come back brutally. She had been contacted by professor McGonagall, and told that the twins would have to go to a special school. While she was wondering how her life would change again, the professor had given her another shocking news. The wizard world was at war, and Muggle related people were particularly menaced.

"Your children will be safe at Hogwarts," she had said, "but you should limit direct contact to a minimum."

"But for how long?"

"We do not know. This is a very troubled time for us."

"What if I refuse to let Richard and Alicia go?" she had challenged.

Minerva hadn't been surprised by the question. She had lost count of the number of times, and different ways, she'd had to face it.

"We cannot allow runaway magical talent. You can choose another school. There is one in France and another in Eastern Europe. If we cannot convince you to have them educated, then we will have to stunt the children's powers."

"What do you mean 'stunt'?" The word had an ugly sound.

"Someone will operate of their minds to inhibit their development. I must warn you that such an operation is irreversible, and only executed as a mean of last resort." The expression on the ancient witch's face conveyed all the horror than such a terrible act evoked.

"That sounds awful."

"It is. In a way, the worse part is that the child often suffers from it. He will not remember what was done, but he will know that something important is missing from his life."

"You people are monsters!"

"No. Uncontrolled magical powers can be truly monstrous. Few of us are innocents, but compared to some we are angels indeed." Her face had softened. "I know that you have your children's best interest at heart. Believe me when I tell you that they will be happier in our world."

_What about me?_ she had thought silently, not daring to voice the selfish question.

"Will I see them again?" She'd tried to keep the desperation out of her voice.

"Certainly. They can come back for the vacations, and you will keep in contact." McGonagall had smiled kindly, expressing genuine sympathy. "I know what happened with their father, and it is true that the situation of people such as you is awkward. Please trust me when I say that some of us are trying to make it easier."

She'd accepted of course, but it had reopened old scars. The pain had been tempered by the children's excitement, and their evident happiness. She'd read their letters and tried to follow events in the wizard community and at Hogwarts. She had lived with fear and hope for months, and only recently had she learned that it had all turned out well.

She was only beginning to understand what had happened. How extraordinary that those students had played such an important part in it. Going to their house to pick her Silena, she had expected to meet serious, impressive elf like beings, instead she had meet laughing young people, only a little different from the ones in her classes, much younger certainly, but she'd remembered that these people matured faster.

They'd had fun, playing around together, and yet Alicia had said that they were formidable fighters. Certainly they qualified as interesting people. She would be glad to meet them again.

Another surprise had been the other wizard, the professor. The Head of Richard's House, as they called their school sections. As strange a man as she had ever seen. He reminded her of one of the university's doyen. A fanatical, hard driving researcher with a brilliant mind, and little interest outside of his work. She sensed the same intellectual passion, mixed with something mysterious. A complex man, Hermione had said. Someone who meant a lot to them, but who appeared to keep to himself a lot. What would it be like working with him?

_I didn't agree for anything more than a few hours' work, and in truth I will certainly learn something interesting._

Her eyes fell on _Magical Drafts and Potions_,lying across one the _European Journal of Biochemistry_. Two completely different worlds, and here she was stuck right in the middle. Alicia and Richard's path for the next seven years was clear, but which way would she go?


	9. Chapter 8 Diagon Alley buying spree

_Hoping that enough time has elapsed since their last public appearance, Harry and his friends decide to visit Diagon Alley. Meanwhile Silena continues to discover the Muggle world at the Parker's flat. She, Alicia and Richard make progress with the Weasleys' riddle. Luna has some new information about the Centaurs._

* * *

_**Chapter 8 - Diagon Alley buying spree**_

_Diagon Alley,_

Apparating in Diagon Alley, they were immediately immersed in the noisy atmosphere of the street. They had planned to meet just outside of the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. Ron had suggested that they have breakfast there before going shopping.

"I'd rather be inside, if we get swarmed over like at the station. Tom should be able to control things better than we could in the streets or inside the shops."

Hermione had teased him of thinking with his stomach more than with his brain, but even she had agreed that it was probably a good idea.

Several people did recognize them, and cheers immediately broke out among the inn's customers. They didn't even get the chance to choose a table. A group of young wizards and witches stood up and insisted to give them their seats. The word spread quickly to the rest of the assembly, and other tables were soon arranged around them. They found themselves answering enthusiastic greetings, and accepting various breakfast oriented offerings. It was still overwhelming, but much more civilized than their previous experience. Actually, enough time had passed for the public curiosity to abate. Arthur had made good on his promise to pass the word that they should be allowed to move around freely, and Tom was doing his part as well, and keeping the more excited clients in line.

They did have to answer a barrage of questions, and sign a great deal of autographs. After a while Harry thought that giving interviews to Rita Skeeters wasn't so bad. At least in those, he only had to deal with a single interlocutor. Putting on the best face he could, he fervently hoped that this was not going to be their daily grind in the future.

Finally, they managed to convince the crowd that they really had some business to attend to. Standing up, they made to go, thanking everyone for the drinks and snack which had been offered to them. They hadn't been given the slightest chance to pay for anything, except with their time.

Ron's reasoning had been sound. The most enthusiastic of their fans had apparently been satisfied by that public sharing, and the rest of the population seemed content with friendly greetings and the occasional nice word. By and by, they were able to move around without provoking too much fuss.

First order of business was Gringotts. They entered the bank as a group, and several people stopped what they were doing to look at them. A couple of muttered remarks echoed in the marbled hall, but thankfully nobody tried to talk to them. They advanced toward one of the teller booth, under the fierce gaze of the Goblin perched there.

"Good morning," said Harry pleasantly.

"Your name?" he asked, screwing his eyes together.

_I don't believe it. Everyone jumps at us, and the first person we actually want to talk to doesn't recognize me._

"Harry Potter, and I'm with my friends-"

"Please wait moment," interrupted the small creature. He stepped down and whispered to another of his kind, who quickly rushed to a side door. The teller then descended completely from his perch and addressed them.

"Sirs and Madams? Please follow me."

He started toward the same door and waited patiently for them to follow. Harry looked at the others, Draco shrugged, and nobody could think of a valid reason for not accepting the invitation. They were led through several corridors into a very luxurious part of the bank. The floor was covered in thick carpeting, and the doors were large and made of precious wood. Every fixture was gold or silver, and elaborately carved. The Goblin opened a last door and ushered them inside a room with a large grey marble table surrounded by big leather chairs. On the table, a gold tray was filled with several cups and glasses, tea and coffee pots, some water bottles and a bowl filled with cookies.

"Please make yourself comfortable. Someone will come in a moment."

He closed the door and left them alone.

"Well, what do you know?" asked Ron, taking a cookie.

"I think we'll be meeting one of the directors," said Hermione.

"But why?" asked Harry.

"One of the perks of fame, I guess," suggested Draco.

He poured a cup of tea for Ginny, and some coffee for himself. Shortly afterwards the door opened and another Goblin entered. That one was dressed in a rich dark jacket with thin vertical golden stripes, and he carried an unmistakable air of authority. Another Goblin stood at his side.

"Good morning. I am Gauldbag, the Director of the Bank, and this is Goblin Graskut, my assistant."

They were properly impressed. The Director of Gringotts would certainly rank high in the Goblin hierarchy. The bank was after the most important visible feature of their community. They stood up and returned the greeting politely. Ron swallowed convulsively the last of his cookie.

"Please sit down." They did and he took place at one end of the table. The chair adjusting automatically, so that he was at the same level as they.

"I took the liberty of meeting you. I felt it was important to know each other, but before we talk, do you have any simple transactions that we can carry out for you?"

"Er, we just needed to withdraw some money," said Harry. "For shopping," he added, as if he needed to give a reason.

"Do you wish to visit your vaults? If not, then you can simply write down the amounts, and we will have it brought here."

The prospect of long bumpy rides in the tunnels didn't enchant any of them. Harry looked around and they all nodded.

"That would be fine sir."

The Goblin assistant produced sheets of parchment where their current account was shown, as well as a blank space for what they wanted to take out. Ron and Ginny had one sheet for both of them. Harry was embarrassed when Hermione looked at his and whistled softly. He currently had 467 209 Galleons in his vault. The number didn't mean much to him, but it was still a lot of money.

The assistant took the sheets and gave them to another Goblin who was waiting outside the door. Draco spoke up.

"We would also like to set up a common account for all of us, and make some transfer to it." Ron and Ginny looked at him and opened their mouth but he shook his head firmly at them. Not daring to protest in public, they stayed quiet.

"Certainly." Another sheet was produced. Harry and Draco transferred a thousand Galleons each. The Goblin came back in less than a minute with small leather bags and six gleaming golden keys.

"That was fast," exclaimed Ginny. The Director smiled with condescension. At least, they supposed it was a smile. The display of the Goblin's small pointy teeth looked mostly menacing.

"For simple services, and honored customers, there is no need to waste time on details."

"We are honored indeed," replied Harry, "but is there a special reason for our meeting?"

"I wanted to meet the heroes who had vanquished the Dark Lord, and express my thanks on behalf of our community." He bowed gravely, and then he turned toward Hermione. "I have also heard that you have further plans."

She was surprised, but very interested. Relations with Goblins had always been part of the Association's goals, although with a reduced priority. After all they could take care of themselves much better than the poor House Elves. Still, it was important to keep in contact.

"Indeed we do sir, but may I ask how you learned about those?"

"We have contact with some influent families," he replied imprecisely. "You talked with some, and some talked with us. Was that not the purpose of your actions?"

"Yes." She wondered who it could have been. Certainly, most pure blood families were rich. "And what do you think of our project sir?"

The smile became more pronounced, and showed even more teeth.

"A generous endeavor, but I hope that you are not underestimating the difficulties."

She wanted to ask if the Goblins were ready to help, but she felt that they ought to wait until they knew more about each other. Certainly, their facial expressions were very disquieting. The Director was looking at her with careful eyes.

"We would be honored to discuss the statutes of the association in more details," she proposed.

"The honor would be ours," he replied politely. "It is perhaps a little soon for that however."

_All right, they're not ready, or they were waiting for something else._

"We will be available when you think that the time has come."

He bowed his head in thanks, still showing the predatory grin.

"It has been a pleasure meeting you." He indicated his assistant. "Should you require anything in the future, please feel free to ask for Goblin Graskut. He will be handling all your accounts." He turned toward Draco and Harry. There will be some arrangements to make concerning the Malfoy and the Black estates." Draco's face froze. "However since you are still legal minors, the Ministry will have to validate the proceedings. You will be notified in any case."

"Thank you, sir."

"I wish you a good day then."

The Goblin stood up, and they were led back to the lobby. Coming back in the Alley, they decided to split up. Hermione had a personal business to attend to. Ron and Ginny would be looking at Quidditch supplies, while Draco and Harry had some undefined business to attend to. Luna decided to shop for clothes. In the end, they all agreed to meet back at Flourish & Blotts since books were the one common item they all wanted.

- - -

Hermione walked along the Alley until she arrived in front of a narrow and shabby little shop. A sign read: _Ollivander's - Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC_. She peered inside but no one was visible. The door was open however, and she entered cautiously, remembering the last time she'd been there, more than five years ago.

"Hello?" she called out.

"Good morning," replied a soft voice. "Ah, Miss Granger it is. Welcome to my humble shop. I trust your wand is still giving you satisfaction?" He raised his hand and his face showed concentration. "Springy willow, eleven inches with Unicorn hair core, if I recall properly."

He was right as usual. Nobody could testify to when Mr. Ollivander had ever made a mistake about one of his wands.

"The wand is fine, thank you sir. I didn't come to see you about it, at least not directly."

She was actually unsure of herself. After the episode when the Death Eaters had captured her and Ginny, when she had realized how helpless she had been without the means to cast any spell, Hermione had resolved never to be trapped in such a situation again. After some fruitless research, she had finally decided to ask an expert, but it was still awkward to ask a seller of wands about ... wandless magic.

"Er, I have an unusual question to ask you," she began carefully. "Most of our magic is done with wands, but on some occasions we may not be able to use one. I was wondering if ..." She made a helpless gesture.

"If there was an alternative?" he finished, looking at her over his spectacles.

"Well, yes."

"You are aware of course of the role the wand plays in spell casting?" he asked in testing voice that reminded her of professor McGonagall.

"Yes. It's used to focus the magical energy."

He raised a vertical finger and gently shook his head.

"No. At least it is not the main purpose." Hermione frowned. She'd never heard of any other function. He continued. "What you gave me is the official, and approved, answer. The truth is a little more complicated. The wand actually focuses the _mental control_ of the magical energy. Do you see the difference?"

Hermione's mind raced. They had discussed theory with Remus, and she could understand what he was saying. What it implied exactly was something else. She reflected for a moment.

"Does it mean that if I can find another way to focus my mind, then I don't need a wand?"

He clapped his hands once and smiled.

"Exactly. Of course, it is still the most effective tool one can use for spell casting, and most wizards," he winked, "and witches, will be much more effective with one, but there are alternatives."

Hermione smiled timidly. She had the answer to her first question. There was a solution to her problem.

"And do you know where can I find out about that?"

Mr. Ollivander didn't answer at first. He pursed his lips, and stroked his stubbly chin for a couple of seconds while he looked at her.

"I am aware that you have been deprived of your wand during an unpleasant situation recently," he said indirectly. She nodded gravely, not willing to talk about it. "There are very good reasons for restricting wandless magic," he continued. "The Ministry keeps most of this information locked up in the Department of Mysteries." He smiled maliciously, "I believe that you are familiar with the place?"

"Er, Yes. I've been there." _How does he know all this?_

"Hum. My good friend Albus thinks very highly of you. Perhaps you can be trusted with some of this knowledge." He chuckled. "In fact, from what I have heard, you might even improve on it yourself."

He extended his index finger in the air once more, and quickly moved it in a swishing arc in the direction of the door. Immediately the lock engaged and the store curtains descended to hide the inside of the shop from any prying eyes.

Hermione's eyes opened wide. She tried to take a closer look at Mr. Ollivander's finger. He halted her and indicated that she follow him into a side room. She found herself into the wand maker's workshop, surrounded by the fascinating implements and supplies he used in his trade. The walls were covered with many shelves crammed with jars and boxes. Tools and several partially-assembled wands were visible on a long bench. One wand was positioned in a lathe, in the process of being turned. He led her toward a pair of chairs and a table.

"As you have seen, I myself have experimented with these techniques. Did you see what happened?"

"You used your finger instead of a wand?"

"Exactly. But it wasn't just my finger. Look at it. Do you notice anything?"

She examined it closely, but there was nothing particular about it. The nail was well trimmed and some calluses and minor scars could be identified. It was the typical finger of an old artisan.

"I don't see anything unusual." On an intuition, she took out her wand.

"Can I use a revealing spell?" He nodded, and she tried some of the standard magic to display invisible objects or markings. After a moment nothing appeared but the whole finger glowed with a golden light. It meant that the finger contains unspecified magic.

She stood up and frowned at the wizard, who was smiling at her with a questioning look. It wasn't possible to enchant living matter. What could he have done?

"You used some kind of magical substance on it?" she proposed.

He nodded approvingly.

"Close enough. I tattooed parallel lines, using an invisible ink adapted from wand core ingredients." Comprehension dawned on her. The finger would have some of the characteristics of a wand, but it would be totally undetectable.

"Brilliant," she said. He bowed graciously.

"Thank you. It does not work as well as a real wand. Like I said, the mental focus is facilitated but the result is not as good as with my personal wand. What is more, for spells requiring a lot of energy, the wand also functions as an amplifier, which cannot be the case here. It would be very painful and even damaging."

"So you can only use it for simple spells," she said pensively. "But that's already very useful."

"Oh yes. You can untie knots, summon another wand, and maybe even blind an enemy."

He went to a cupboard, took a small notebook from a drawer and gave it to her.

"These are my notes. I know that I can trust you to keep this from other's eyes. Please return it to me when you are satisfied, and I would appreciate any insights _you_ might have in these matters." He also gave her some ingredients, and refused her offer of payment.

"Let this be my personal contribution to the rewards you deserve."

Hardly believing her good fortune, she took the notebook and material. Gratitude showed in her face.

"Thank you immensely sir. I will work on this immediately, and I will certainly share any knowledge that I might uncover."

"That is good enough for me, Miss Granger. Give my regards to your friends. Goodbye."

"I will. Goodbye sir, and thank you again."

- - -

_Parkers' flat, London,_

"Would you like to watch some TV?"

Silena made a lopsided grin and spread her hands. Her attitude said 'I don't know what a _teevee_ is, but if you explain it to me, then why not'. She'd had a lot of practice since the previous day, and Alicia and Richard had gotten very much used to it.

In this case however, the object to be described spoke of itself, so they just dragged her to the living room sofa.

Silena watched politely as Richard zapped through a number of channels, before finding something he liked. Cartoons flashed on the screen, and suddenly she burst out laughing as Wile E. Coyote suffered another painful setback in his endless quest for Road Runner fricassee.

"Do you like that one?"

"Yes! It's really funny."

They watched the programs a little more, until Alicia finally suggested plaintively that, just maybe, they could do something else. Getting no response, she took refuge in _Hogwarts, a History_ and continued her search for the answer to the Weasley twins' riddle.

_Richard said it reminded him of a stamp. I don't think so, and there's nothing in _Hogwarts_ about stamps. Wizards don't use these things._

She considered the drawing again. Going back to the book her eyes fell on some internal views of the castle.

_...A lot of former students, who have made a name for themselves, have their pictures hung in the numerous corridors. Some of them even take an active role in the every day life of the school..._

Sure. Like the Fat Lady who guarded the Gryffindor quarters. She was quite a sight in the golden frame of her painting. Alicia froze.

"Peoples! I think I know what the drawing means!"

Richard turned from the TV.

"What?"

"Turn that thing off. I don't like to yell."

He reached for the remote and turned off the sound. Silena looked at the little box curiously, wondering if it was the equivalent of a wand for Muggle. It looked somewhat like Hermione's _telefone_ too.

"It's not a stamp," continued Alicia. "I think it's a picture frame, probably of a painting."

Richard went and sat next to her. He considered the drawing once more. She could be right, and in that case the text would be the title of the picture. He felt the thrill of being close to the answer.

"You're right. It's got to be it. Is there any picture in the book of someone who could be a 'modest sage'?"

They turned the pages quickly. Meanwhile, Silena had the remote in her hand, and she wondered what would happen, if she pressed any of the buttons. She glanced at her friends, but they were engrossed in their work. She pressed one at random, and looked at the TV set. Some text appeared on the screen which she didn't understand. What could SETUP mean anyway? She pressed another button and the picture changed. Some Muggles were talking to each other in a room. There was still no sound, but their faces were hard and strained. One character was holding a dark metal object in his hand, and pointing it at a well dressed man with a round hat and a red flower on his lapel.

"If 'sage' stands for wise, then the only modest one I can think of is the Headmaster, and he doesn't have his picture anywhere."

"Yeah, except on frog cards, and I don't think that's it."

Silena tried to understand what the images showed. The Muggle holding the dark object was acting menacingly. Suddenly, a door busted open, and a woman in a tight leather outfit jumped into the room. She did an impressive cartwheel and kicked the weapon aside. The scene erupted into fighting.

"Can you make the sounds come back?" she asked.

"What are you watching?" Richard balanced on his chair to take a look at the screen. "Oh, that's an old _Avengers _rerun. Push the blue button. The one with a 'plus' sign on it."

She did so. Loud suspense music was heard. The woman and the man with the black bowler hat were running toward some strange machine.

"Richard!" said Alicia.

He kept his eyes on the TV, trying to identify what the episode was. He'd always liked this series, even if the special effects were pretty lame.

"Richard! Are you going to help in this or not?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm right here." Reluctantly, he turned back to the table.

Silena tried to follow what was going on. Her experience in fiction was limited to children's books, usually with a pure blood prince saving the kingdom again Goblins or some such despised menace. At least, she could identify who was on the good side.

After a turning dozens of pages, Richard pushed the book away in disgust and sat back in his chair.

"Can't find a thing here. We're going to have to wait until we get back."

"And take a look at every painting," agreed Alicia. "Talk about fun."

"Maybe that's part of their plan. They want us to learn everything about the school." He tried to catch a view of the screen.

"What is it with the TV? You've seen that one a million time," exclaimed Alicia with annoyance.

"Yeah, but as a series it was cool. Even the name was nice."

"Maybe, but it's all over. The last season was never as good as the first, and the movie stunk."

"Tara King was okay, and they could always do a remake. Hey! You know it could be a good name for our group? _The Avengers._ That would be way cool."

Alicia considered it. "Hum. Why not. It rhymes with the other names they gave us. What do you think of it Silena?"

She shrugged, for her it was just a name.

"Would we have to dress up like them?" she asked.

They looked at each other. Alicia though about Emma Peel's exotic leathers suits and Richard wondered where he could find a bowler hat.

"It would be difficult to go around the school like that," he said. "Aside from that, I think that the idea's brilliant."

"Right," said Alicia. "Then let's do it. We'll be the New Avengers."

Silena looked at them for a moment, and moved to join them. She extended her right arm, palm downwards. The other two did the same, placing their hands over hers. They grinned foolishly at the makeshift ceremony, but it was much more fun to have some formality. They were a team. They had a name and a quest to finish. They didn't need anything else to call it an adventure.

- - -

_Grimauld,_

When they got back to Grimauld, Luna went upstairs and came back to the living room with the book Dumbledore had given her. Harry immediately noted the scorched cover.

"Have you been reading it or are you just starting?" he inquired.

"I've already read about half. The most important part, in my opinion," she replied.

"By the way, what actually happened with Firenze?" asked Ron, an unusually concerned expression on his face.

Luna waited until the others had joined them, and then she recounted how the Centaur had reacted to her remark about the Forbidden Forest.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" exclaimed Ron in outrage. "Don't believe a word of that crap about the forest protecting them. It certainly didn't protect the Unicorns from Voldemort when _we_ were there."

"Don't get into a state, Ron," she replied calmly, "From what I read, he had a good reason to act like he did, even if I don't agree with everything he said."

"What's the story then?" asked Hermione. "What's the common history of Wizards and Centaurs?"

Luna looked at her before speaking, anticipating their reaction. She'd been stunned initially, but after some thinking, it explained a lot of things.

"In a phrase: the Centaurs trained the first wizards, and they lost all that they had because of it."

"What!" Harry was stupefied.

"That sounds familiar," said Hermione, remembering what had happened to House Elves.

Ron and Ginny looked at her with doubtful expressions. Draco was frowning.

"Explain," he said tersely.

Luna's eyes were as dreamy as when she was talking about one of her ridiculous conspiracy theories, except that this time the story was probably true. After all it had been confirmed by Dumbledore.

"Before there were any wizards, before the first human civilizations even, the world was a wild place, filled with normal animals and magical beasts. Several intelligent species existed, Humans, Goblins, Elves and such, but they lived as independent tribes. The Centaurs were the most civilized of those peoples. They have a faculty, which they call the Sight, and which enables them to see various magical phenomena, and interpret the stars to predict important future events. This helped them to develop a true culture."

"In contrast, the first humans with magical talent had no knowledge on how to use it. It only manifested itself like the unconscious magic we sometimes do as children. It all started when a group of Centaurs made friends with some of these humans, and helped them control this power. These became the first true wizards"

"It soon developed however, that the humans were able to do much more than their teachers. Centaurs can't do wand magic, or anything similar. Their talent is mainly passive, whereas the wizards were gifted in active magic. Humans gradually took over most of the world, while the Centaurs and the other magical species were reduced to living in out-of-the-way places like the Forbidden Forest."

"That's why they hate humans so much," she concluded. "They gave us this great gift, and we kicked them out."

"But-" started to say Hermione. Luna cut her off.

"Why didn't they see the danger? They can see Signs about the future, but that's always something vague. Apparently the Centaurs who decided to teach the humans divined that 'great things' would result. They didn't realize that the greatness would be for the wizards only."

"Who taught the Centaurs in the first place?" asked Ginny.

"Why did the Centaurs and the human compete so much?" asked Draco.

"Why-"

Luna raised her hand. "Please! One question at a time," she pleaded. "I really don't know much more because there is still a lot in the book that I haven't read. And some pages are missing or completely burned, including several which relate to the role of the Unicorns. Everybody, and especially the Centaurs, treats them as very important, but they don't say why."

"Unicorn based ingredients are very important in potions and in wand making," said Hermione.

"That shouldn't be reason enough for so much veneration," replied Draco. "Dragons are even more useful in that way, and they don't get as much respect."

"Maybe it's because Unicorns don't try to claw your heart out, or burn you to a crisp," retorted Ron.

"Perhaps the Unicorns are the ones who taught the Centaurs," proposed Hermione. They are close enough physically, and they are usually found together."

"It's possible, but I've never heard of anyone communicating with a Unicorn."

"I want to know why there was so much competition between us and them," repeated Draco.

"Humans don't like to share," murmured Hermione.

"Come on, the world is big enough," said Harry. "And let's look at it from another point of view. Why is Hogwarts, the foundation of wizard power in Britain, right next to the Forbidden Forest, and the biggest concentration of Centaurs?"

A long silence answered him.

"Now that's a really loaded question," said Draco finally. He turned toward Luna. "Okay, finish that book, and then we'll all read it. We'll ask more questions of Dumbledore when we get back to Hogwarts."

"He was right certainly," said Hermione, looking at the floor. "It's a sad story."

"I don't understand why it had to be that way," insisted Draco. "It's evident that the two species complement each other."

"Maybe there was something they both wanted, and that they couldn't both have," proposed Ron.


	10. Chapter 9 Christmas Eve

_Just a sweet little interlude as Harry and Draco look at the two recipes Snape gave them (Note: Silena is with the Parkers so she can't be corrupted)._

* * *

_**Chapter 9 - Christmas Eve**_

_Grimauld Place,_

In the morning before Christmas, Harry and Draco decided to test the recipes Snape had given them, and to do so without arousing their friends' suspicions, more the surprise for them. A 'No Entrance' sign was placed on the door of the little potion laboratory and they reviewed the instructions.

"Which one do you want to do?" asked Harry.

"I better attempt the hangover potion. It's the more complicated of the two," replied Draco. "I don't want to hurt your feelings, but _I am_ better at this than you," he added with an expression a touch condescending.

"Fine by me." Competition wasn't his thing, certainly not concerning potions.

They set about brewing the stuff. Harry needed some standard liquor for a base, so he asked Dobby who promptly returned with an enormous bottle of old scotch. He poured a good measure into a cauldron, and let it simmer with the prepared ingredients. The result would be mixed with the straight stuff. Whiskey fumes soon perfumed the air, and they were probably inhaling some of it, despite the aspiration spell that had been cast over the workbench. Certainly they both felt very relaxed.

"You know," said Draco thoughtfully, "there's something I wanted to tell you the other day."

"Yes?"

He struggled to find the right words. Harry noticed that he wasn't looking at him, but kept his eyes on the mixture he was stirring mechanically. This was very unusual for the normally self assured Draco.

"If Tom Riddle had gotten himself a friend, then Voldemort probably wouldn't have existed," he finally said.

Harry was surprised, but the remark made him think back about Tom Marvolo Riddle, the heir of Slytherin, and by association, about what he knew of his ancestor. Salazar Slytherin had been close to being a Dark Wizard himself, but the Founders had also been four friends. Hogwarts had been a group effort.

"Salazar and Godric?"

"Yes," said Draco softly, turning his eyes toward him.

They looked at each other, Draco was clearly embarrassed, but he didn't flinch.

"Draco and Harry?"

The other boy remained silent. He showed a nervous smile and nodded briefly.

"I'm your friend," continued Harry gently. "Do you have a special reason for thinking you need one badly?"

"I - I don't know." His gaze drifted to the side. He remembered what had almost happened with Montague. "I was thinking about how easy it was to ... lose one's self in ambition - and power." He looked back sharply. "Ginny might not stop me. She'd stay at my side, but I feel that ... you'd tell me if I went too far."

Harry thought about it carefully. He understood Draco's vulnerability as a brilliant and powerful Slytherin. He had talent and ambition, and he'd been trained by some of the best wizards, living and dead. Harry didn't think that his friend would return to being the nasty git he'd once been, but he could become something much more dangerous. There was always that fascination for dark and dangerous magic. The eternal curse of their House.

It was evident to him that he would do all he could to try to keep his friend from losing himself to the Dark Arts, but it was more complicated than that.

"I would, but would you listen?"

Sudden understanding flashed in Draco's eyes. That was the crux all right. It would only work if the respect and affection flowed both ways. If Draco stopped looking up to Harry, then Harry would be powerless to convince him. It was easy enough to be friends. It was much harder to be an _esteemed _friend. They both felt this, but it was another thing to say it out loud, even in private.

Harry looked at the young man, remembering the training they had done together.

"I'd hate to have to fight you one day," he finally said.

"I'd hate it as well." The trademark smirk was back on Draco's face. He still showed it on occasions, but stripped of the old arrogance, it had become an endearing feature.

Harry flashed his dazzling smile. There was not much more to say.

"I guess we'll just have to keep on our toes."

- - -

It was late afternoon when they emerged to find the others finishing the decorations in the main room. A big tree had been set up in a corner, and it was already adorned with multicolor bubbles and golden threads. Scores of animated magical creatures were chasing each other between the branches, colored candles orbited in spirals around the trunk and several wrapped packages were already stored under the lower branches.

The two boys went to fetch their own presents from their rooms, and then they set up a low table with six sitting cushions around it, and the best Black family crystal they could find on it. Draco bought out the sealed bottle of improved Firewhiskey and placed it at the center.

"What's that for?" asked Ron.

"It's a little after dinner surprise."

In due course they lowered the lights and proceeded to eat the magnificent dinner Dobby and Winky had prepared. It had been served with a generous amount of Butterbeer so when they retired to the living room, they were all somewhat in their cups. Not really drunk, but certainly comfortable.

"We'll leave the presents for tomorrow, but we've prepared something to top off the evening," said Harry, leading them toward the low table.

They sat down. He reached out to get the bottle and almost knocked it over.

"Hey! Careful with that!" cried Draco. "There's only one of it."

"Bloody cushion's too low and deep," grumbled Harry.

He managed to break the seal properly, under Draco's watchful glare and the others' evident curiosity, and pulled the cork.

"What is this?" asked Hermione with a frown.

"Er, it's a drink," replied Harry seriously.

"I can see that! What _kind _of drink is it? Not something too strong I hope. We've already drank a lot already. I don't know if it's very reasonable to take any more."

"Relax Hermione," answered Ron, "It's Christmas, and we're not going anywhere. Is this something you found in the house?" he added with an eager expression.

Harry was carefully measuring portions into the six glasses. One drop fell on the table and a puff of smoke appeared immediately.

"_What _is this stuff?" asked Hermione again. "I won't touch any of it until you tell me exactly what's in that bottle."

Harry and Draco looked at each other and shrugged.

"Er, you remember the night Remus went out with professor Snape?" Ron's eyebrows shot up and Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Well we asked him for the recipe."

"And he turned it into extra homework for us," added Draco, chuckling.

Ginny took her glass and sniffed it carefully.

"Remus did say it was one of the best drinks he ever had, but that the coming down was pretty bad."

"Er, we've also got the recipe for the hangover antidote," said Draco. He produced several small vials.

"So you brewed this all by yourself?" asked Luna. She was amused.

"Yep. It took us all day," announced Harry proudly.

"And did you by any chance _test_ it?" asked Hermione, still not convinced.

"Hermione, there's only one way to test it," said Ron reaching for his glass.

"I think the proper answer is 'spoken like a true Gryffondor'," replied Draco, grinning.

Ron's hand stopped before touching it. He suddenly seemed less sure.

"Er, you mean I go first?" he asked demurely.

Everybody smiled and looked at him with expectation. He gulped and raised his glass.

"Well, here goes."

He closed his eyes, and took a little sip, with everyone watching him carefully. He grimaced at the fiery taste. Nothing bad seemed to happen to him until after a second, when the full effect kicked in. He changed color, and opened his mouth as a real flame shot out.

"Gosh, it's burning me!" he rasped. His voice had gone down at least two full octaves.

"Yes, but does it taste good?" asked Harry, whose lips were twitching.

"Yeah," he replied in his new very deep, strange voice. "It's not bad." He grinned. "Your turn now."

There was no way out. They had to try it themselves. In a synchronized gesture they brought the glasses to their mouths and drank.

Draco had taken a large swallow, and his eyes were bulging. He managed to shot out flames out of both nostrils in addition to his mouth, and his hand was clenched tightly around the base of his glass.

"Whoa!"

"Eeech," said Hermione. "Eeeech!" She had made the mistake of holding the flame inside, before exploding in a fit of coughing. Harry went to help her and clap her back. She was bright red, black smoke was coming out of her, and two long tears ran down her face.

Luna was trying deep breathing exercises to control the burning. Judging by her expression, it didn't work very well. Ginny was the one who looked the most comfortable. She grinned at Draco and giggled.

"Hey, that was pretty good. Congratulation you - _hips! _- guys."

Harry exchanged a grin with Draco. He felt like his mouth, esophagus and stomach were on fire, but there was also the start of a pleasant buzz in his head. They continued to take more sips, and after the first shock, the burning became less intense. Maybe the nerve endings were giving up.

After the first glass Luna was humming an indistinct tune, and Ginny was giggling uncontrollably. Hermione held out her tumbler to Harry for a refill.

"Profess... - _hips!_ - Snape did say - _hips! _-was homework?" she tried to say. "- _hips! _- there an essay to write too?"

"Yes, two feet's worth."

Harry held the bottle and fought with new laws of physics, as the room skewed around him when he tried to pour some liquid into her glass. It was as if the thing was actually alive and trying to aim for her forearm instead. Hermione stabilized it with her other hand and helped him fill the glass. He managed to fill his own and passed the bottle on to Ron.

After their second glass they were definitely feeling it. Hermione had decided that she was going to start on the essay, while she could still analyze the experience at first hand.

"I'll help you," said Draco solemnly. His voice had taken on a definite slur and his movements were slow and very deliberate. "After all I'm the ... best student in _potions_."

Ginny emptied the bottle into her glass and Harry's, and then she proposed a game of Quiddich using the bottle and the cork.

Hermione held her quill firmly and steadied herself with her other hand.

"We'll start - _hips! _- the title."

"It's _Improved Fire Whiskey_." He described succinctly how it had been prepared, and she wrote everything down obediently. Her neat and precise script was curiously unaffected by the liquor.

Harry and Ginny moved to the center of the room. A confused discussion began on whether to use bottle and cork as Quaffle and Snitch, or as bat and Bludger.

"Your writing is very _beautiful_," said Draco in admiration.

"Thank you." She lost focus for a moment, as she struggled to remember what she was doing. "What - _hips! _- next?"

He looked at her and blinked.

"Effects!" he said finally. "We should be writing about the _effects_ of the _potion_."

She wrote down _Effects of the potion_, followed by a semi-colon, and then she sat straighter and tried to think clearly. It was very hard and somewhere in her mind a little voice was screaming in frustration.

She wrote: _Increasing difficulties in mental processes._ She remembered another thing and wrote underneath: _Alcohol is a dangerous substance and should not be abused._

She'd read that somewhere. It seemed very abstract, and she tried to make sense of it. Absent mindedly, she reached out and took another sip of the drink. The taste was really very good, and the question didn't seem very important anyway.

Harry and Ginny's play had degenerated into a chaotic game of tag, where each would attempt to touch the other with the cork. Luna and Ron were singing together. Luna's voice was beautiful and Ron's new baritone was not bad. It was really a shame they couldn't decide on singing the same song. Draco was on his knees next to Hermione and balancing himself from side to side. He stumbled and knocked against her.

"_Sorry_ 'bout that."

As he struggled to right himself his face brushed against her shoulder.

"There's another _effect_ you can write down," he mumbled.

"What - _hips! _- it?"

He showed a bright charming smile.

"Makes little girls smell _nice!_"

She didn't react and wrote: _The potion makes little girls smell nice_.

"Any - _hips! _- else?" She looked at him. He was very close and his pale hair sparkled in the candle lights. Harry and Ginny had ended in a giggling heap among the presents under the Christmas tree.

"Maybe they _taste_ nice too?" he said, looking at her, with a questioning expression. His eyes didn't quite focus.

She supposed it could be possible. Evidently all of their senses were affected.

"How can you - _hips! _- be sure?"

"We could _experiment_," he said gravely. Moving his hand and vaguely pointing at the paper. "It might be important for the _essay_."

He was probably right. Certainly, they needed to get all the facts right. She took another sip and so did he.

"All right. Let's try - _hips!_"

He approached his lips tentatively toward her neck and gave quick flicker with his tongue. She giggled and pushed him away.

"You're tickling." She realized that she was getting distracted and made a conscious effort to concentrate. "What does - _hips! _- taste like?" she asked seriously.

He smiled happily. "Tastes _nice_ too."

She wrote down: _Little girls' neck taste nice._ She frowned it didn't seem to be enough for a proper essay.

"Nothing else?"

Draco dutifully endeavored to 'taste' her hand, then her cheek. He stopped and stood back with a serious expression on his face.

"Want to _try_ something _else_," he said, frowning, "but need ask _permission_ first."

She looked back, confused. Why would he need permission to research the facts for their essay?

"No - _hips! _- problem." She took the quill and got ready to write the result down.

He moved his face closer to hers and kissed her gently on the lips. She dropped the quill, and opened her mouth slightly.

"_Little boys_ taste nice too," she said after a moment.

"Better _write_ it down."

- - -

At midnight the clock started to sound the twelve chimes.

"Hey!" Harry tried to stand up with Ginny half asleep in his lap. "_Hips!_ - time to wish each other a merr_hips!_ - Christmas!" He looked around to search for his friends.

They crawled toward the center of the room. Harry was barely able to stand on his knees. Ginny was giggling at his feet. He helped her up, and she buried her head against his waist. The others joined them and they finally locked arms together and mumbled the season's greetings before falling down in an untidy heap.

- - -

Hermione woke up and her first reaction was: _Good God! I've got the flu._ Her head was pounding, she felt nauseous and confused, and her tongue seemed to be stuck to her palate. She opened her eyes and saw that she was entangled with other bodies. Her right leg was numb, Ron was weighting on it, and her head was in Harry's lap. The others were lying about, still unconscious.

Memories of the previous night came back to her, at least what happened at the beginning. There was a blank after she'd started the potion essay with Draco.

_What a stupid idea that was! Damn you Harry!_

She shook her head angrily, and immediately stopped when her headache flared in blazing pain. She disengaged herself from Ron and massaged her leg to get the circulation moving.

_Water. I've got to drink some water._

She could see the dinner table in the other room, but it was empty and spotless. The elves must have cleaned up during the night. She winced at the thought that they must have seen them lying on the floor like drunks. Looking around she took in the low table. Six little vials were on it, next to a sheet of paper, an inkwell and a quill.

_Of course. The antidote._

She moved carefully toward the table and took one the potions. _I hope it works._ She felt so bad that she didn't think anything worse could happen. She gulped the content and her head cleared immediately. It was such a pleasant feeling that she almost felt grateful toward the two boys. Her eyes fell upon the paper. She recognized her own script, but she couldn't remember what she had written. She took it and started reading.

_'Improved Firewhiskey' indeed._

She continued, skipping quickly over the actual brewing instructions. Behind her she could hear someone else waking up. When she got to the analysis of the effects of the potion, a look of horror came over her face. Blushing furiously, she pressed the letter against her chest.

"Mione," groaned Harry in a pitiful voice. "Please give it to me."

She turned around, clutching the paper against her.

"What? Why do you want this?" she said, panic all over her face.

"Not _that_," he replied. "On the table."

_Oh!_

She took another vial and brought it to him. His hands were shaking a little but he managed to open it and drink down the content.

"Ah." The relief on his face was comical to watch. "Thanks a million, Mione." He closed his eyes and laid back on the floor. She took the occasion to slip the essay inside a pocket. He looked up and smiled at her. "Don't make that face. We're not going to do that every night."

_We certainly aren't._

"But it was fun wasn't it?" he added.

She swallowed. "Er, yeah, I guess it was." _Please don't let him ask about the essay._

"Are you all right?"

She tried to look casual. "Yes, sure. A little queasy maybe."

He chuckled and gestured toward the tree and the presents.

"Merry Christmas."

She smiled.

"Merry Christmas to you too."


	11. Chapter 10 Teachers and students

_This starts the second part of the story. More is said about the mysterious wizard organization, and two of its members. Severus confronts potion making and muggle chemistry. The Avengers plan and execute their first mission._

* * *

_**Part II - Enemies**_

**_Chapter 10 - Teachers and students_**

_An old house in the countryside,_

Hermione Granger would have loved the house. Certainly not because of the decoration, which was rather dark and sinister, but for the books. These were everywhere, they owned the place. Not a room which didn't have a wall covered with bookshelves, except those reserved for the House Elves. Not a chair or a table which wasn't in easy reach of writing tools, and with a place to put an unfinished volume down. Even the loo, especially the loo, had its own little library and work desk.

The book obsessed owner of the house was a very old man. Old enough to remember teaching History of Magic to a young brilliant boy named Albus Dumbledore. He was born more than two centuries past, which probably made him the oldest wizard alive. He had been a teacher several times, at Hogwarts and at other schools. It was something he regularly did, teach for two or more decades, and then retire to spend years in long solitary research, before coming back, under a different name and appearance, to teach new generations of wizards. His magical ability was not exceptional, actually it was average, but his mind was one of the greatest. Over the years he had amassed a prodigious store of knowledge, and he had become the Scholar of the Brotherhood.

The Blood Brotherhood was old. It went back to the dawn of wizard history. Few people knew about it, and those who did were sworn to silence. Its structure was shrouded in secrecy. The outer circles were a nebula of alumni and short lived pseudo secret societies, but the inner core was a powerful organization, highly influent, and totally devoted to keeping the ancient order of things, including the supremacy of the pure blood wizard families.

The members weren't Dark Wizards by any means. The Brotherhood was much more civilized, and very careful about accepting overly ambitious individuals within itself. Every member swore oaths against attempting to take over the group, and all shared in rituals to reinforce their loyalty. As they progressed in the hierarchy, the oaths and the rituals became even more binding. In the ruling council, decision making was collegial. The system had worked very well. Accidents happened, disasters even, but the Brotherhood always survived and regenerated itself. Even if the Seven who made up the council were to die abruptly, the rituals would insure that successors would eventually be found and initiated.

The old wizard extended a hand toward a bookshelf and murmured a few words. The books moved from right to left with blinding speed, disappearing at one end and appearing at the other, while a soft shuffling sound was heard throughout the house. This went on for a few seconds, until one glowing book finally appeared and jumped out, landing on his desk. He opened the volume carefully and peered inside.

Fifty years ago, a great and powerful wizard had entrusted him in the education of his daughter, which already was a remarkable young witch. He remembered her very well. That wizard's fate had been tragic, but the Scholar had taught the young woman many things, eventually becoming her guardian and mentor.

In time he had introduced Electra to the inner Brotherhood. Some of the others had been reticent, knowing who her father had been. He had convinced them that she would find her place in the organization. She had proved her worth and quickly risen up the ranks to become one of the Seven.

A year and a half ago, she had conceived a dangerous plan, and the council had agreed to it. A delegation had contacted Lord Voldemort, shortly after he had made his spectacular comeback in the Riddle graveyard, and made him an offer.

The Brotherhood would use its influence to prevent the Ministry from acting opening against the returning Dark Lord. In exchange, they asked for only one thing. Control of the Hogwarts grounds and of the Forbidden forest. He could raze the school to the ground if he had too, but he was to preserve the lives of the pureblood students as much as possible. He had accepted, and a complicated pledge had been made.

The Dark Lord had wanted to know what they wanted exactly, but they had refused to elaborate. Trust was minimal between them. What Electra had brokered was a temporary deal. Afterwards, Voldemort would have to fight them to achieve total domination, and they knew that he would have to be checked at some point.

Voldemort hadn't been a member of the Brotherhood of course, but they saw him as a useful tool. Something to fight off the forces which worked against them. Those wizards who wanted to change the traditions and overturn the Old Order. Umbridge had been a member however, not of the inner core, but she had done what they'd asked of her, albeit badly.

The Scholar had been confident that they would be able to control the situation. It was one against many after all, and they didn't waste time and power on immortality spells and other selfish obsessions. Voldemort was powerful, but he had studied dark magic for only fifty years, and he didn't know about the Power Circles, or how they could be used. Their existence was one of the most closely guarded secrets in the world.

They had been ready for success or setbacks, but not for such a catastrophic failure.

Tonight, Electra was with him again. He had been waiting for her in his study-library, ready to discuss their final assessment of the current state of affairs. She'd Apparated silently in front of his desk, a demonstration of masterly control.

"Good evening professor," she said warmly. She'd always called him that, a lot of his former students did.

"Good evening, Electra. A pleasure to have you here once again."

"Do you understand better what actually happened?" she asked, not wasting any time.

"Definitely community magic, but not as powerful as it should have been if they had fully controlled the Circle," he replied in his toneless, precise voice. "I believe they taped into it unknowingly. It would fit with the account of asking all the school occupants to join in. The castle was built astride it for that very purpose after all."

"So, perhaps they don't know what they did," she said hopefully.

"That is possible." He would never commit himself unless he was sure, and his standards for that were high indeed, especially when betting against Albus Brian Dumbledore.

"And the Six of them are linked together?"

"Of that I am certain, and I would bet that the Headmaster arranged it that way. Perhaps he hoped that their merged power would be sufficient."

"Six students? Against Voldemort?"

"Don't forget the link between him and the Potter boy." He shrugged. "He called them the Six Founders when he testified to the Wizengamot. I think that he was actively trying to invoke the original Founders' power, and that he partially succeeded."

She was silent for a moment.

"If this is true, then they are a grave menace to us."

The original Founders had greatly reduced the influence of the old wizard families by allowing any potential wizard or witches to learn as much magic as they could master. Any successors would certainly follow in their footsteps. Enough of this, and there wouldn't be anything left of the old traditions.

"I think so as well, but moving against them is difficult at present. A direct attack would be chancy, and they are too popular for the usual indirect means of discrediting them."

"Waiting is out of the question," she countered. "The last time, we reacted too late, and that damn school was finished before we could do anything. We must act now," she added decisively.

"How?" he asked simply.

She began to pace in the room.

"This bond that they have. It can't be as complex as the one the original Founders made, or as our own rituals?"

"I do not believe it is based on a ritual. Two of them share a pledge, but it is a private one."

She grimaced in exasperation. The Brotherhood was an expert of rituals. It was yet another weapon which they could not yield.

"Then how do they do it?"

"They are using something much more basic." He smiled in retrospect at his own surprise, when he'd finally understood how simple it had been, after searching for a complex solution. He looked at her to see how she would react.

"Tell me old man!" she snapped impatiently.

"Love."

She frowned. "What?"

"Love and friendship, absolute trust. Such a simple thing, but they believe in it enough for it to work." He shrugged. "I think that their age is part of it. Such innocence and trust would not be possible between adults."

"Don't tell me the Malfoy boy is innocent!"

He conceded the point.

"A valid remark, but I have found no other explanation. Something must have been done to make him join them." He nodded absently. "Dumbledore has made stranger things happen before. He certainly planned this carefully."

"Don't say his name," she snapped.

He shrugged. "Put your obsession aside Electra. Remember what happened to Riddle."

The look on her face was murderous, but he looked back without fear. Thelas and the others might be scared of her, but that was because they were expendable. The brotherhood would be hard put to find a better Scholar than him. Harming him would harm the organization, and so it would be impossible for her.

"He destroyed my family. It's personal."

"We have talked about that before. He did not destroy your family. He killed your father. Your mother died in the battle. You are still alive. Shall I tell you again my opinion of what happened?"

Her eyes blazed but he held her stare. Slowly she shook her head. The conversation he referred to was fifty years old, but she remembered every word.

_"Your father was a fool Electra. He challenged the entire world, like hundreds before him. He was powerful, and so he reigned for a few years, but absolute power begets absolute resistance, and so he met his match. His failure was inevitable."_

He had told her that she had two choices. Follow her father's footsteps and share his fate, or join those who build upon the virtues of tradition and patience. She'd been too young to be told the full story of the Brotherhood then, but she had followed the path he offered, and eventually, she had transferred her individual ambitions to the group. She would never be a Dark Lord, and in truth she was content to further their common goal.

But Electra Grindelwald wanted revenge all the same, and she would have it. One day she would crush the life out of Albus Dumbledore's body.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Severus Snape checked his equipment on more time. He had reduced his list to three potions which would be easy to prepare and test, and also require the use of a wide variety of ingredients. Everything he needed was inside a small transportable chest, including a brand new set of instruments.

He hesitated to take the Muggle book he had tried to read. _An introduction to biochemistry_ had thoroughly confused him with countless references to basic knowledge which he didn't have. The high level of abstraction in the text had surprised him. It actually made Arithmancy look simple. These difficulties had dashed any hope he'd had of handling this project alone, and it had made him adjust upwardly his impression of the Parker woman. If she could handle such a subject at a research level, then she was certainly highly intelligent. He'd looked at her children's grades, and they were impressive for Muggle borns, especially Richard's.

He had also consulted the records on her husband. Ethan Parker had been a Ravenclaw with no particular distinctions. He'd been working with the Ministry since after his graduation, and he'd died in a stupid accident, when a wild dragon had escaped and wrecked havoc in a Muggle suburb, leaving her with twin babies. The Ministry had cut off all contact with her until the true nature of the children could be determined. He'd grunted at that. It must have been tough for her. Severus didn't approve of Muggle - Wizards relationships on principle, and the incident only served to illustrate one of the many problems it caused. Harry's family history with the Dursleys was another.

_If you disapprove, then what exactly are you doing today Severus?_

He tried to ignore the interior voice. This was nothing but a research project, and she was already in contact with wizards.

He took the permanent portkey to Grimauld, and as fate would have it, she was the first person he met, sitting the living room sofa next to Richard. He greeted them, noting with some relief that the new decoration was finally something tasteful.

"Good morning, professor Snape."

"Good morning Mrs. Parker, Mister Parker." He hesitated, then added. "I trust you had a pleasant Christmas?"

"Wonderful, thank you," she replied, throwing a kind smile at her son. "You know, it's always such a happy time of the year with young children." Richard scowled furiously and quickly asked to be excused.

Severus smiled politely. Actually, he knew nothing of the sort. His own childhood memories were of stiffly formal family reunions, and at school he usually evaded the festivities as much as possible. This year, the entire faculty had celebrated Yule together, but at least no children had been present.

"I need to have a word with the others, and then we can proceed with our experiments."

"Very well. I think they're still having breakfast."

There was indeed a lot of youthful exuberance in the kitchen. He called out a quick greeting, caught Draco's eyes and retreated in the lobby. The boy stood up and joined him.

"Do you want me to show you to the laboratory, sir?"

"Is it still on the third floor, the room on the left?"

"Yes sir. There's a sign on the door, you can't miss it. If you need anything, please call out. Dobby or one of us will be available."

"That will be fine. Oh, and Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Please convey my thanks to all of you for your present. I ... truly appreciate it."

He had found the richly decorated package on Christmas morning, at his usual place on the teacher's breakfast table. Inside had been a beautiful antique pestle and mortar set, and a card with all their names. All the teachers had received gifts as well. Dumbledore's had been the strangest of all. A selection of large woolly socks in a finely worked wooden case with no markings except for a small inset mirror.

Draco grinned. "You're most welcome sir. We had a lot of fun ourselves with yours. Harry and Hermione are away for the rest of the holidays, but they said to be sure to tell you that."

_So they managed it all right._

In truth he expected no less, but it must have been an interesting evening. He pushed away his curiosity.

"In that case I'm very glad."

"I'll leave you to your work then, Mrs. Parker, sir."

Severus followed the boy with his eyes as he went back into the kitchen. Helen looked at them both and hid a smile.

They walked up the stairs in silence. One door had a stylized cauldron symbol on it. Severus opened it and stopped in surprise. It had been modeled in the very same style as the Hogwarts potion classroom. The walls had been charmed to resemble the dark stones of the dungeons, and even the workbench was a copy of the one he used in class. It was in stark contrast with the rest of the house. The only thing missing were the rows of school desks. The final touch was a frame on the wall with a picture of himself, sternly contemplating the room, and looking ready to comment scathingly on any mistake.

_This has Potter written all over it._

He frowned and turned toward Helen, who tried to stifle a laugh. He sighed and gave a wry smile of his own.

"You see what I have to put up with."

"Really," she replied. "They're some of the nicest kids I ever met. And so full of life too. You must be really proud of them," she said.

"Yes," he said softly. Then he caught himself. "What do you mean?"

"Come now. It's obvious that they consider you a father figure."

He scowled at her.

"What did they tell you?" he asked briskly.

She'd been ready for his sharp reaction. This was evidently a man who liked to keep control of his life. She shrugged and kept a half smile on her face.

"They didn't tell me anything specific. I'm just reading between the lines."

The scowl turned into a measuring stare.

"And what do you ... read, Mrs. Parker?" he asked carefully.

"Please, why don't you call me Helen?"

_She is trying to make me lower my guard. Is it innocent sympathy, or something else?_

"As you wish ... Helen."

"And can I use your first name as well?"

He hesitated a fraction of a second. "Certainly." _No harm in that._

She laughed good naturally. The sound brought back buried memories. It had been a long time since a young woman had done that in his presence.

"What is so funny?" he asked, confused.

"I don't know what your first name is."

_Yes. Clumsy of me._

"Forgive me. It's Severus," he said, inclining his head in apology.

_An appropriate name for a hard teacher, _she thought.

"Well Severus, I won't pretend to know much about you, but these kids are pretty well adjusted and very open with their feeling. They're happy, they like you and they feel that they owe you a lot." She smiled as if she had just finished a demonstration. "That's good enough for me."

Such an explicit admission of trust made him uncomfortable. He struggled for the proper attitude to take, and an unconscious grimace showed on his face.

"Well, at least I know in which House I'd place you," he finally said.

"And where would that be?" She was genuinely curious.

"Gryffindor of course, like your daughter."

"Ah, courage and forthrightness, and what else does that entail?" He started to frown again until he reminded himself what she was.

_Of course, she doesn't know what the Houses really represent. Her children are too young to understand all the implied values, and their consequences. _

He decided not to go into too many details.

"It makes for, ah, complex relationships with Slytherins like me."

She nodded slowly.

"Complex. That's a word that fits you well."

"Perhaps." In truth, among all possible adjective, he found this one rather comfortable.

She smiled mysteriously.

"I like complex puzzles."

His immediate reaction was defensive, but her smile was turning into something softer. As if they were sharing a kind of private joke. He found himself warming to the playful banter. He showed an appreciative smile of his own and inclined his head in acknowledgment.

"Speaking of puzzles." He indicated the workbench.

"Ah yes. Let's get back to our experiment." She took out a notebook and a ball point pen. She wrote the date and place. "Have you thought of something specific to test?"

"Yes," he replied, extracting a piece of paper from his bag, and trying not to be distracted by the unfamiliar Muggle tool. "This is the recipe for a simple cleaning potion. It should be easy enough to test. I will make a batch and demonstrate it. Then you will do the same."

She watched and listened attentively while he worked, making a point of explaining the different steps, in much more detail than he had ever done in class. When the brew was finished, he tried it one on several pieces of wood that he had previously stained with ink. Of course the potion worked perfectly. His picture portrait smiled smugly.

Helen repeated the same gestures but the potion didn't look the same, and when she attempted to clean her piece, only a little of the ink went away. Severus watched in undisguised fascination. The portrait sneered contemptuously, but he knew that she had followed the procedure perfectly.

"The results are not much better than with hot water," she observed. "Something other than simple chemistry is at work here."

He nodded silently.

"When you brew a potion," she continued, "are you thinking some kind of incantation, or concentrating on something else than the actual motions?"

"No. If a mental process is at work, it must be unconscious." His mind was in turmoil. This probably warranted a major change in the way potions should be taught.

"Do you mind if we try something else?" she asked.

He shook his head, curious at what she was getting at. She took the solution he had prepared and used it on a third piece of wood. The results were not perfect, but still much better that her batch. She made a few notes, wrote the numbers 1 to 3 on the used pieces, and gave him her batch of potion. Understanding immediately, he tried it on a fourth piece. The result was intermediate between the previous two.

_Fascinating._

He pursed his lips in appreciation as she consigned the details on her notebook. What they had just done was extremely instructive. The potion needed magical ability both to be brewed _and_ to be used.

They did more experiments which confirmed their findings. They finished taking notes, she by hand, and he by having a quill do the work magically, if only to show that he was as serious and methodical as she was. When they were done, Helen explained that she had also tried to classify some of the ingredients mentioned in the potion manual.

"This powered crystal is one the simplest substance chemically and biologically. It doesn't seem to have any symbolic value either. It is therefore possible that my 'magic-less' status will not matter a lot if I use it. Do you have anything else which could be similarly neutral, and used in combination with it?"

He searched his memory and found two recipes. One of them was an invisibility potion and it was probably the best choice. It was however long and delicate to brew.

"That will take me about an hour to prepare. After that, you will be able to mix these in a separate recipient, which I will then add."

"And you will need to do it yourself as well," she said, smiling. "It's almost noon. Do you want to break for lunch, or shall I get us some sandwiches?"

He shook his head and gave her a rare smile. He didn't want to break up the special mood they shared, intellectual challenge and friendly company.

"Sandwiches by all means. You can ask Dobby for what ever you want."

"Dobby?"

"The House Elf, a small humanoid creature wearing the most outrageous combination of clothes that you can imagine. I you can't find him, just ask one of the kids."

She shook her head and chuckled, anticipating yet more strangeness.

"What should I bring you?"

"I'll eat anything, chicken and salad would be fine."

She went and came back with Dobby in tow, carrying a large plate. The Elf placed it on a side table and left quickly. Severus had started the new potion, and she looked at him working. She noted his precise movements when cutting or grinding the various ingredients, the little tricks he used to add measured quantities at regular intervals, under the approving stare of his portrait. His grace was a sharp contrast with the stiffness he showed when talking to others. She didn't interrupt until he paused, explaining that the brew would need to simmer on it own for a moment. They each took a sandwich and started to eat.

"I can see that you're really good at this. It's becoming a lost art at the College. Most of us rely on machines for mixing and brewing."

He raised an interested eyebrow and swallowed a bite. "You have machines to do that?"

"Yes electrical and magnetic tools, controlled by computers."

"Computers?"

"Machines that control other machines, and process information."

"Electrical too?"

"Yes."

"Hum, they wouldn't work here, or at the school."

She cocked her head and looked at him carefully.

"Do you need to be somewhere special to do your work?"

He frowned. It was another good question. Actually there were places where magic worked better, and magical folks tended to concentrate there. He remembered something about Hogwarts being situated in a special location as well. It was certainly there that he did his best work.

"You may have something." He explained some of this to her, and then added, with a trace of awkwardness. "I like the way your mind works. I find it very ... stimulating." He stopped in embarrassment. The portrait Severus raised his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head.

She just smiled, ignoring his reaction. "Thank you. It's very flattering. As I told you, most of our time is spent thinking about theory, and on how to program the machines to do the wet work."

_Wet work? Yes that about describes it._

"I am sure that you do that very well. Perhaps one day, you will show me?"

"With pleasure."

He looked at his watch. It was time to continue. "This will be ready in a few minutes. Here is what we are going to do." He described the simple process of crushing the crystals and mixing them.

They brewed three batch, one with her mix, one with his, and one in which he deliberately blotched the work, but not badly enough that the potion should fail. He applied the final potions to three pieces of wood. The first two became transparent as glass. The other was translucent and smoky. She did the same and the results were similar but distinctly degraded.

"What conclusions do you draw?" she asked.

He caressed his lips thoughtfully before answering.

"It means that _some_ aspect of potion making can be done by Mu- non magical folks," he said softly, "and probably also by mechanical means." He turned toward her, excitement lighting up his eyes. "I think that I would like to see some of your machines."

His eagerness was communicative. She thought about it. The labs were mostly deserted during the holidays, and there were no specific restrictions in any case. The only difficulty was in finding an experiment that would mean something to him.

"It could be arranged. When are you free?"

"I have nothing special planned for the week. Is the day after tomorrow too early?"

"It's a date. Shall we meet here like this morning? I'll have my car. It will be about a half an hour drive."

"Very good."

She remembered what they had discussed. "And perhaps you could bring your equipment as well. It could be interesting to see if you can work outside a magical area as well as here.

He nodded silently, and there was a definite respect in his eyes when he looked at her. For some reason, it made her feel very good. Severus debated about telling her exactly what he was planning. She could certainly help him much more if she had all the elements, but he was still reticent to do so.

_Because she is a Muggle? Because I want to keep my secrets?_

He had too much to think about, and prudence won out. He cleaned up the lab quickly. They came down to the lobby and turned toward her.

"Thank you for you precious cooperation," he said softly.

"Not at all, it was truly fascinating for me. I look forward to the next time." She smiled and offered her hand. He hesitated and willed himself to take it gingerly, surprised at the unusual strength of her handshake.

"Goodbye ... Helen."

"Goodbye Severus."

- - -

Richard was thoughtful. Twice, he'd seen professor Snape in the house, and in both occasions he was sure that the man hadn't used the front door. Silena had explained about Apparation magic, but she had also mentioned that most wizard homes were shielded against it. A casual question to Ginny had confirmed that this was also the case here. So, how did the man arrive?

One possibility he liked to imagine, was that there was a secret passage between the house and Hogwarts, and he was determined to search for it. Exploring during the day was out, they'd get caught immediately. He drew Alicia and Silena aside after the evening meal and explained his suspicions.

"Let's wait until they're all asleep and explore the house tonight," proposed Alicia.

"Right," he replied. "If we could use it to get back to the school, it would be brilliant," he added, "but maybe it's protected?"

"Only one way to find out."

The evening dragged on endlessly. Ron challenged Richard to a game of chess. The boy was usually able to hold his own for a time, no one ever beat Ron at chess, but this time he was dispatched in less than six moves. The girls were similarly edgy, but thankfully none of the others paid much attention to it.

At midnight they got out of their beds and dressed quickly, using the darkest clothes they could find. Richard would have dearly liked to be able to look more like John Steed, but all he had found was an old umbrella and a red flower he'd fixed on his jacket. Alicia had tried on a pair of black rubber boots, but the result was ridiculous, so she'd abandoned the idea and settled for sneakers and a black turtle neck sweater. They opened the door carefully and slipped downstairs as silently as they could.

They had decided to start with the first floor. A few sounds were coming from the kitchen, and Richard supposed that the Elves were still working.

_The living room is out. I was there the second time he came in._

They tried the storage rooms. There was a large one for furnishings, some of the old Black furniture was kept there, and a smaller one for food. Moving carefully, they checked every nook and corner. Richard was knocking on walls with the handle of his wand, looking for hidden doors.

"Perhaps it's in one of the big cupboards?" whispered Silena.

It wasn't impossible. They tried several of the big doors until they came at one that was locked. It looked promising and a sense of anticipation filled them.

"Let's search for a key."

"No need," said Silena. "My brother taught me this spell last year." She took out her brand new wand and pointed it at the lock.

"_Alohomora!_"

The door opened to reveal a dark space. They held their breath and Richard peered carefully inside.

"Girls, I think we've found it."

Alicia took out her own wand. "_Lumos!_" The inside of the space lighted up. It was empty, except for a shiny door knob placed right in the middle of the wooden back panel.

"Well," she asked. "Shall we try it?"

"Maybe we should check for traps," he said dubiously.

"How prudent you are," she mocked. "Let me show you how a Gryffindor does it." She stepped inside decisively and touched the knob.

And disappeared from their sight.

_Whoa!_

Alicia found herself inside another large cupboard. It would have been dark but her _lumos_ spell was still working. She opened it from the inside, there was no lock, and looked at a stone walled room full of chests and chairs. She didn't doubt for a second that she was at Hogwarts. She stepped outside, turned back and waited for the others to follow. She could see an identical door knob inside. When nothing happened for a couple of seconds she stepped back in and touched the knob.

She was back at Grimauld, looking at her two friends who hadn't moved.

"What are you waiting for?" she asked impatiently.

Richard smiled. "We wanted to make sure that you could come back."

"No sense in all of us getting lost," added Silena seriously.

_Slytherins!_

"And if I hadn't?"

He grimaced. "We'd have gone to get the others." _And into big trouble._

"But it's much better that way," added Silena grinning.

Alicia didn't know whether to be annoyed or amused. She chose the latter and chuckled.

"Well I confirm that it works, both ways. Shall we go?"

They followed her, and quickly found themselves in the deserted corridors of Hogwarts. Walking carefully, they started to examine the painting on the walls. For the most part, these showed their occupants sleeping. Some were snoring noisily.

And some were not sleeping at all.

"What are you doing out of your beds at that hour?" said one middle aged portly wizard from his frame, making them jump in fright.

"Er, nothing sir," whispered Richard. "It's just a game."

"A game? Why should young students be out at night ..." They didn't wait for him to finish and ran quickly away and up the first available stairway.

"Well, Well. Who is that?" asked another voice. They turned to see the ghostly shape of Nearly Headless Nick coming out of the wall on their left.

"Uh, good evening Sir Nicolas," answered Alicia. "Please don't mind us. We'll just be on our way."

Nearly Headless Nick was one of the most benevolent ghosts of the school. He was not one to turn in a curfew breaking student, or three. In the many centuries he had spent in this place, he had seen quite a few. He smiled absently and started to move along.

"Can you help us?" asked Silena innocently. "We're looking for a painting."

The ghost's face brightened at the request. People so rarely asked things of him, and with no students in residence he'd been more than bored for the past days.

"Certainly, my dear. A painting you say? Well there's certainly no lack of that in this place. Can you be a little more precise?"

Alicia picked up the cue.

"We only have a label to describe it, sir. It's 'modest sage'."

The ghost chuckled.

"Precious few of those on these walls. Are you sure you've got that right?"

Richard frowned and thought about it. That was what they had reasoned after reading all the books they could find about the school. Maybe the riddle was more complex. He took out the original drawing and looked at it. The letters were reversed he saw, but more than that, they were mirror imaged.

_Maybe the meaning should be reversed as well._

What was the opposite of 'modest sage'?

"And what about a painting about a 'pretentious fool'?" he asked suddenly.

Sir Nick inclined his head to consider the new request. The head toppled over his shoulder, barely attached by a strand of skin. Silena gasped.

"Oops, sorry about that," he said, restoring his head in its proper place. "Where was I? Ah yes, a pretentious fool you say? Well offhand, I'd think of Sir Cadogan. Don't know why, but it's what comes into my mind. A brave soul certainly."

The three children looked at him with expectant eyes.

"Can you tell us where his painting is?" asked Alicia.

"Well, it's on the seventh floor, right on the landing, but ..."

"Thank you Sir Nicolas," she said, as they rushed up the next flight of stairs. They felt the excitement of being close to the solution of their quest, and they couldn't wait for anything. Still, seven was a large number, stairs-wise and when they arrived on the top landing, they were all panting heavily and not running any more. Richard tripped on the last step and fell face down.

"Halt! Who goes there?" asked a strong masculine voice. A knight in armor was brandishing a sword and challenging them from a large painting in front of them.

"Are you Sir Cadogan?" said Alicia.

The man stopped, surprised.

"Yes, that's me, proud descendant of ... Hey!" He yelled as the children ran toward him and tried to look behind the painting.

Silena took out her wand and pointed it at the frame. Sir Cadogan made a sweeping slash with his sword, trying to get at them. He missed of course, but the sword smashed into a chair leg in the neighboring painting. The old witch who was sleeping in it fell to the ground and yelled in pain. The knight moved his sword again. The other portraits were waking up and getting out the way fast.

"Cadogan, are you mad?" screamed one. "You almost cut my leg off!"

"_Alohomora!_" called out Silena.

"Back! Back I say. I would not slay children but I will defend ... Mmmph." His voice became muffled as the frame pivoted like a door along unseen hinges and the knight found himself pressed against the wall.

In the space behind the panel was a small recess, with a plain wooden box inside.

"We found it!"

They quickly recovered the box and re-closed the opening.

"Sorry about that, Sir Cadogan," apologized Richard. "We won't bother you again. Good night."

"What? Such insolence! Come back here and fight!"

"Cadogan, you damn fool. Shut up and go to sleep!"

They fled back down the stairs, only slowing down when they came to the lower floors. It would really be a shame to get caught by Filch now. It only took them a few minutes to get back to the secret cupboard, and from there to Grimauld Place, and finally back in their room.

Like the girls, Richard was out of breath and barely able to speak. He held the box in front of him and the three of them looked at each other with big stupid smiles on their faces. They'd done it. The Avengers had succeeded in their very first mission. It almost didn't matter what the prize could be.

"Can ... we ... take ... a look?" panted Silena.

Richard went to sit on his bed, and they joined him there. The box wasn't locked and he carefully opened the lid. Inside, there was a small leather book and an envelope. He removed the envelope and Alicia took the book. On the cover was written:

_The Marauders' guide - volume 1_

"There's got to be something about that name," said Richard. "Fred and George used it several times." He opened the envelope. It contained a single piece of paper.

_Congratulation! You have finished your first quest. Your reward is one of the most useful books you will ever read. There will also be an extra bonus if you bring or send us this letter before January 31st._

_F & G_

_P.S. What name did you choose?_

"We've got to get to Diagon Alley before the end of the vacation," said Alicia.

"Hum, we could always ask, but it might be easier to send this by owl in any case. In the meanwhile we'd better hide the book."

Alicia looked longingly at it. "I'm not sure I want to go to sleep."

"You'd better. If they see us weary eyed in the morning, they're going to get suspicious."

"Okay."

They quickly undressed, got into bed and extinguished the lights.

"Richard?" asked Silena.

"Yes?"

"That was real fun."

"Sure was," added Alicia.

"Yeah, it was great." He thought about something. "You did real good, both of you."

"You were brilliant!" said Silena. Pride filled him.

"We make a good team. I'm glad we're together in this."

"Me too!" both of them answered as one.

"Let's go to sleep. Good night girls."

"Goodnight Richard."

- - -

_The Scholar's house,_

Electra marched through the doorway, a determined expression on her face.

"I have a plan," she said. "We can eliminate the danger and recover what we want. I want to know what you think of it."

She talked for several minutes, explaining her idea. The Scholar listened silently, nodding sometimes, frowning at some points, but he did not interrupt her. When she was finished, he reflected on what she proposed.

"It could work," he said finally, "but remember that it has been tried before." He didn't add that it had failed.

"It was tried too late, after the initiative had been lost, and in one important aspect, it worked. Had the Brotherhood acted sooner, it would have succeeded."

He nodded absently. She was probably right, and she did have that talent for finding weakness in others. At least, she wasn't proposing that they rely on another potential Dark Lord.

"I agree. Let's go over it in detail, and then we can put it up to the council."


	12. Chapter 11 The education of Severus Sna...

_The continued education of Severus Snape, and the second part of the potion/chemistry experiments._

* * *

**_Chapter 11 - The education of Severus Snape_**

_Hogwarts, morning,_

Severus was pouring himself a second cup of tea, when an owl flew in the dining hall and dropped the envelope it was carrying in front of him. He picked it up and noticed the silver border and the elaborate Slytherin symbol on the seal. Only old families, and institutions, took the trouble to use those. He broke it and extracted a short letter.

_Professor Snape,_

_We would be delighted to have you as a guest for a dinner and gathering of friends on the 5th of January. We have also extended this invitation to Mr. Draco Malfoy and Miss Ginevra Weasley. It would be a pleasure to welcome you at our Sussex residence at height o'clock._

_Kind regards,_

_Theodore & Emily Parkinson._

He didn't know the Parkinsons that well, only that they were one of the most respected of Slytherin families. The last time he'd seen them had been when Lucius Malfoy had placed them under the _Imperius_ curse to kidnap Ginny and Hermione. It would seem that they had recovered completely.

_You are moving up in the world Severus._

He was folding the letter when Remus and Tonks joined him.

"Good morning Severus."

"Good morning," he replied curtly.

The couple took their place next to him and proceeded to serve themselves. For a moment no one talked. Severus seldom did, and the other two were among those people who needed a cup of tea, or coffee, before anything but the minimal morning interaction. The next few minutes passed in silence.

"We finally got the answer about the Headmaster's Christmas gift," said Tonks.

Severus considered her with polite curiosity. She was referring to the pair of socks inside the mysterious box. Their first reaction had been to treat it as a kind of joke, until they had realized that the Headmaster had been strangely silent and evidently deeply moved.

She described the scene in Harry's first year, when he and the Headmaster had talked in front of the Mirror of Erised.

"When Harry asked him what the mirror was showing to him, Dumbledore replied that he saw a pair of warm woolen socks," she said.

_Why would he desire socks? Unless... yes. When such a thing is all that you want, then you are truly happy._

No wonder the Headmaster had been so moved. The gift was a priceless symbol of how Harry felt about him. For an instant, Severus was consumed with an overwhelming feeling of jealousy. He would have liked to be in Dumbledore's place. Powerful and loved. The unusual burst of emotion didn't last, and he quickly got himself under control.

_Why do I feel these things? I never yearned for love, and I know the price of power._

He looked at Remus who didn't seem particularly affected. It was obvious that the man was happy with what he had. They got along well enough together, treating each other as friends, but he couldn't comprehend his lack of ambition.

_That's why he wasn't sorted in your House, Severus._

"I still don't understand why he made such big deal out of it," continued Tonks. "He knows Harry likes him."

"Ah, but he feared that he'd lost it," responded McGonagall, who was just coming in.

"What do you mean?" asked the young Auror.

Minerva placed a roll on her plate and thoughtfully selected some coarse cut marmalade.

"You weren't with him that morning," she replied. She held her cup and silently asked for Severus to pour her some tea. "He was completely devastated."

They looked at her in fascination. None of them had any recollection of what had happened that night, and the Headmaster systematically evaded all questions. Any morsel of information would be welcome.

"Do you remember anything?" asked Remus.

"No of course not. For me like for everybody else, nothing appended after going into the Chamber of Secrets. The next thing I remember is waking up in the Gryffondor common room, but I was with the Headmaster when Harry and his friends came asking for explanations."

Severus frowned. That was not how he would describe his memory. He was aware that a period of time had passed. He just couldn't bring the events into focus.

"What did they say?" asked Tonks.

"The Headmaster told Harry that he'd done something necessary but terrible. Something that he was sure would haunt and cripple them. That's why he took it upon himself to Obliviate all of us."

"I supposed that he feared that Harry would resent someone taking such a decision about him," said Remus. "I remember I was upset about it."

"But that's not what happened at all," said McGonagall. "I was more than upset myself. I was furious, but Harry almost kissed him in gratitude."

They digested that fact for a minute.

"Harry has always felt very strongly about killing and death," said Remus. He exchanged a knowing looks with Tonks who nodded silently.

"I would still like to know what actually happened," said Severus, "and why it was so terrible."

"Can't you guess?" asked Remus softly, turning toward him.

Severus frowned.

"No."

Remus looked at him with some pity. He hadn't bothered to ask Dumbledore, because he knew how Harry and the other had destroyed Voldemort. They'd taken all their love and feeling for each other, and those sentiments had been so incompatible with the Dark Lord, that it had destroyed him.

He wondered if Severus was capable of understanding that. It was probably impossible for him to appreciate how painful it had been for the boy to do such a thing.

Severus waited for an explanation. After a moment, he realized that none would be coming. It annoyed him, but he made an effort not to show it. He quickly finished his breakfast and left the hall.

Walking back toward his office, he tried to concentrate on his memory. Something strange was there. An _Obliviate_ spell didn't leave any trace, but he could sense that something had happened. What had been done to him was not at all what the others were describing.

_I've got a memory block, not an Obliviation. Why?_

There was only one person who could answer that question. He changed directions and marched toward the Headmaster's office. The passage opened when he called out the password, and he marched right in.

"Sir?"

"Good morning Severus, please come in."

Dumbledore was seated at his desk. His pensieve was placed in front of him. The old wizard looked at him calmly. Severus didn't pretend or waste any time.

"Why did you block my memory Albus?" he asked brusquely.

The portraits on the wall scowled disapprovingly at his lack of manners. The Headmaster ignored the provocation. He sat back in his chair and considered the professor thoughtfully.

"How is your work with Mrs. Parker proceeding?" he inquired.

Severus' eyes narrowed. So, he knew about that. He was only half surprised.

"What has that got to do with my question?"

A hint of amusement showed in the old wizard's face.

"With the question, not much, but with the answer, a great deal."

He frowned. The man was back to talking in riddles It was insufferable, but he knew he'd never get anywhere unless he played his game.

"I have found some new facts about potion making." He briefly described the results of their experiments. Dumbledore's eyes opened wider, and he was clearly interested by what he was hearing.

"Both of you appear to make a remarkable team," he said finally.

Severus didn't like to admit it, but he had to concur that the woman had played an important part in their discoveries. He wasn't too sure about describing their relationship as teamwork however.

Dumbledore stayed silent, forcing him to continue to think about their _cooperation_, the word seemed somehow more neutral. They did work well together, which was in itself noteworthy. He had always worked alone before.

"Would you say she is just another Muggle parent of wizards?" continued the Headmaster.

"No ... I would not." _What is he getting at?_

Dumbledore nodded absently.

"I have always felt that we didn't take them seriously enough." He waived his hand negligently. "But you already know my sentiments about the common wizard attitude."

_And you wonder why they call you a Muggle lover,_ thought Severus.

"I hope you will continue in this direction," added Dumbledore. "I am certain that you will learn a great deal more."

"I plan to, certainly." Severus surprised himself in saying the words. He did want to continue, and not only for the precious knowledge that he hoped to gain. It had been a pleasant moment.

"Good, good." Dumbledore's attitude suddenly changed, and he looked at the potion master with measuring eyes. "Do you still want me to answer your question?"

Severus immediately went on the defensive. What did the old man want? Anger mounted inside him. _Stop meddling with me!_

"What - are - you - doing?" he hissed, biting off every word.

He got no response, and then he remembered that Dumbledore was first and foremost a teacher. That was the key to anything he did. Others would act directly, or seek knowledge, or power. His reaction to most situations was to find a potential student, and educate him in what he felt was needed. Realizing this, some of his anger abated.

_I'm the student here, but what does he hope to teach me, and why?_

The Headmaster projected endless patience, while Severus was becoming extremely uncomfortable. Actually, he'd been unbalanced since their last meeting. There was nothing specific that he could put his finger on. Nothing menaced him. He had a good situation, fascinating projects to pursue, friends and the respect of his peers.

_I should be happy, instead I am ... confused._

He'd thought that he'd learned the Headmaster's previous lesson. He had vowed to go forward and accept his life. It was difficult to change the habit of a lifetime, but he honestly believed he was doing a good job of it.

He looked back at him. Evidently _he_ didn't think it was enough.

Why couldn't the old man answer a simple question? Was there some terrible secret behind it? Severus suddenly shivered at the idea that what had happened that day might be the key to a tremendous power. It could explain why Dumbledore had erased their memories. To keep the secret.

_"... power that the Dark Lord has not ..."_

He went back to what McGonagall had said this morning, reviewing her words, searching for clues. He found none, except for his impression that they had been Obliviated, while he had only been blocked.

_A memory block can be removed with time. He must know that I can break it eventually, so why did he do it?_

There was only one explanation.

"You wanted me to be able to remember," he said flatly. "Then why block the memory at all?"

"Surely you can deduce the answer to that."

Severus thought about it. All that had been done was to gain, or lose, time.

"To give me time to get used to it?" That didn't even _sound_ reasonable.

The Headmaster shook his head slowly. Severus was sure something big was coming. He could feel his excitement mounting. _Power which defeated the Dark Lord!_ It was probably something derived from the committement magic which Harry had used with him, although what committement the boy could have had with the Dark Lord was something he couldn't imagine.

"Is this power so dangerous that I need to strengthen myself to ..." He stopped as Dumbledore exploded into surprised laughter.

Severus was mortified. He watched, uncomprehending, as the Headmaster guffawed uncontrollably, his face a deformed mask of mirth, with tears running into his beard.

"Albus?"

There was nothing to do but wait for the fit to pass. Evidently he'd just made a complete fool of himself, and if it had been anybody else in front of him, he would leave now and never return. He buried his acute embarrassment under a returning feeling of anger. After a moment Dumbledore regained control of himself and wiped his eyes.

"Forgive me Severus," he said, smoothing his beard, "but that was so unexpected." His lips twitched, but he didn't start laughing again.

"Sir," said Severus stiffly, "I have the greatest respect for you, but this is too much. If you will not answer my question then we have nothing more to discuss."

Dumbledore raised a calming hand.

"Please. I assure you that I am not playing games with you." His expression returned to a serious mien. "I will answer your question."

Severus' face was unreadable. He closed his arms against his chest and waited for the rest.

"Harry and his friends used a tremendous power indeed, but it is not dangerous, at least not in the usual sense of the word. I do not yet understand everything that happened either, but that is not why I suppressed these memories."

The Headmaster's face became grim, completely different from what it had been a few seconds ago.

"Why did you do it?" asked Severus stubbornly.

"To remove the guilt." The other man frowned, but the Headmaster gestured for him to listen. "Harry's power is to express and inspire love. This is what bonds them together, beyond what their training or Miss Lovegood's talent can achieve. In that supreme moment, even the rest of the students joined in, as well as other _forces_ residing in these walls."

Severus grimaced. He could understand intellectually some of what the Headmaster was saying, but beyond his disappointment, he found the subject acutely embarrassing, and somehow _repugnant_.

"This love is what really destroyed Voldemort's soul," continued Dumbledore. "There was some conventional magic which took care of his body and the enchantments he had prepared, but without the love he would have escaped like he did sixteen years ago."

Dumbledore looked at him.

"Can you understand how terrible this was?"

Severus' mouth twisted into a sneer. So Harry's good little heart had been hurt by having had to destroy one of the most evil of men. Merlin knew he admired the boy, but there should be a limit to chivalry.

"He had to take a hard decision," he replied. "Surely he could live with it?" As he spoke the words, he knew that he was refusing to see something, but he pushed the thought away.

Dumbledore shook his head, and regret showed on his face. "It was not just a hard decision, and Harry does not lack for courage. I was hoping that you would understand." He looked sadly at the man in front of him. "Intelligence is not everything after all," he murmured.

Severus held himself rigidly. The Headmaster's evident disappointment was like a slap in the face.

"You know," he continued, "it was really quite remarkable. Everyone was devastated, except for you."

"Why did you block me, and not the others?" he repeated coldly.

"I have just told you why. To give you another chance at comprehending what was at stake." He sighed. "I want you to succeed me, Severus, but it will never happen until you realize that your heart is as important as your mind."

He gestured toward the pensieve.

"I have placed here the key which will unlock your memory. The choice to use it is yours, but if this cannot help you, then I do not know what can."

He sat back in his chair and rested his chin on his clasped hands, with his elbows on the armrests.

Severus looked at the pensieve as if it was some poisonous animal. The Headmaster appeared completely indifferent to his decision.

He didn't really have a choice, so he took it and left silently. Back to his quarters, he locked the door, placed the pensieve on the little table next to the fireplace, and sat down next to it. Confusion and shame filled his mind. Confusion at what the Headmaster was trying to tell him, and shame at his evident failure to understand.

Logic told him what it had to be. Emotions, feelings, love had been the foremost elements in Harry's victory, a vital force which Voldemort couldn't possibly understand, but which was very difficult for him as well. All his life these had been weaknesses for him. Flaws in his armor which others had used to hurt him. He had purged them out of his soul, and he _knew_ that he wouldn't have survived otherwise.

Thinking about these things made him acutely uncomfortable, like when he remembered the few recent occasions when he had opened up to others. In retrospect, he was terrified to realize how defenseless he had been. He couldn't understand why others did it.

_They tolerate the weakness because they are weak, and because they stay away from the strong ones._

It was a satisfying theory, for a Slytherin, but there were glaring exceptions.

_Is Dumbledore weak? Harry? Of course not. They won the war after all._

Perhaps he was incapable of understanding after all. Maybe it had been burned out of him, or maybe it was just not in his nature.

_Maybe I am like Voldemort. A creature of intelligence and will, but not of feelings._

The thought was frightening. He didn't think of himself as evil, maybe he was a kind of _benevolent dark wizard_. He shook his head angrily. This line of thoughts was stupid.

He looked at the pensieve.

_Maybe the answer is in there._

He was suddenly very much afraid. Certainly the headmaster had acted for a good reason.

_I'm a coward._

Why should he accept this _ordeal_ as something to submit to before being considered for the Headmaster position? He was as qualified as anybody else.

_Then why am I afraid?_

Severus Snape had many faults, he was egoistical, stubborn and misanthropic, but he didn'tlie to himself, and he was not a coward. He stayed away from emotions, because he didn't want to lose what he had won through mental strength and willpower.

_Because I could count on nothing else, but maybe the rules have changed._

He bent down toward the pensieve and his hands were shaking. He forced himself to touch the sides of the object. His stomach was a ball of lead in his belly.

_I will just restore those thoughts which were mine. It didn't kill me then, it won't hurt me now._

Like a child taking his first dive from the high board, he forced himself to act without thinking and triggered the key. The recalled memory played in his mind like a film.

He was going inside the Chamber with the others. They had just finished fighting the Death Eaters through the remote control of the modified simulator balls. Between these and the remaining Aurors, they had managed to dispatch almost half of the attacking force. It had been meaningless in a tactical sense, Voldemort was inside the walls and no defenses were left to stop him. The real goal had been to convince the enemy that he was wining, to lure him into the trap.

He was gliding down the Chamber's access tunnels, rejoining the others. All the students were seated in the main room, under the hard face of Salazar Slytherin, their dreamy faces lost in trance. Harry and his friends were in a circle. In the center, the Sorting Hat was levitating and humming to itself. The adults watched and waited.

The children were evidently sharing the same emotions. It was written on their faces. A positive, confident expression of strength. Then the attack began.

A soft golden light permeated the room. It was brightest around the Six. Severus was looking at Harry's face, and his features displayed a beautiful angelical expression. The other five were the same, even Draco. He was embarrassed to witness such a thing. It was the purest sort of sentiment and he could see that the others were captivated. They could all feel it now. The magically amplified emotions were like the reactions to a majestic orchestra playing a poignant symphony. Something was different though. He was more sensitive to it now than in his memory.

In the background, a terrible scream could be heard. It was barely audible, but only because it was so far away. He would have turned, except for what was before him. Harry's face was deforming into a nightmarish vision, an unholy mix of horror and passion. He was reminded of the sadistic look of pleasure he had often seen on Bellatrix Lestrange. The younger students showed the expressions of terrorized innocents caught up in a brutal tragedy. Some opened their mouth to scream but no sounds could be heard. The projected feelings became darker, radiating an unbearable sense of disgust and pain.

It lasted for a long time, gaining in intensity and horror, until it seemed impossible to bear. Severus was not a squeamish man, but seeing his pupils in such a hellish atmosphere was more than he could stand. He couldn't hear the screams anymore, but several of the children were twisting about and holding their heads. The Six were almost invisible, lost in a blaze of golden light.

It finally stopped. The release from the pressure was overpowering. He gasped for breath and tried to see Harry in the fading light. When finally could, his face was a mask of anguish. The boy's gaze found his own, and he heaved a sob. The rest of the students started to cry as well. The memory Severus only felt relief that it was over, but reliving the event was leaving him as drained as the others, and he could feel the sweat running down his face.

What followed was a long drudgery of cleaning up. The replay ended when Dumbledore waived his wand in front of his face.

Severus released the pensieve and slumped back in his chair. He closed his eyes and shivered. For several long minutes, he did nothing but breathe. The first coherent thought in his mind was a citation he'd once read.

_Nothing is a sad as a battle won - except a battle lost._

He could sympathize with the Headmaster now. It had truly been a terrible moment and it was a kindness to have suppressed it.

So now he knew the truth. What lessons was he supposed to extract from it? He recalled another phrase he had spoken.

"... _Intelligence is not everything after all ..."_

The kids hadn't used spells or rituals to merge their minds like that. They had opened their hearts, even Draco, and the resulting union had vanquished the most powerful Dark Lord.

But the end result was less interesting than the means. Something which he had considered a liability had been the essential step in victory. _So much for calling it a weakness._

Then there was that last image. The old, tired face of Dumbledore after the event. The lines of despair and guilt carved on his wrinkled skin, the silent, dead eyes. He remembered McGonagall's description of the morning's meeting, and the reverse transformation when the boy had accepted his decision and thanked him.

So there was something powerful in there after all. As he re-analyzed the situation he could even see the logic of it, but the more he thought about it, the more alien it seem.

A wave of self pity came over him as he told himself that this was indeed a great and wonderful power, but that it would never be his.

It was just too hard for him.

- - -

_Grimauld Place,_

The first thing the _Avengers_ did that morning, even before breakfast, was to borrow Draco's owl and send the letter to the Weasley twins, along with a short note explaining their actions and choice of name.

A quick scan of the _Marauder's guide_ showed it to be full of practical tips for exploring the structure of the school, as well as a list of simple spells to help them do so discretely. Of these the _Shadow_ charm seemed the most interesting. It allowed a person to hide almost perfectly, as long as it stayed in the shadow of a light source, and unmoving. Richard also noted with satisfaction that an entire chapter was devoted to Filch and Madam Norris, detailing a number of weak points and suggesting several interesting, if highly disrespectful, strategies to deal with them.

The missive arrived at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Fred checked the sender's address distractedly, but immediately interrupted what he was doing when he understood what it meant.

"George!"

A red head popped up from behind a complex contraption, vaguely resembling a miniature Quidditch stadium.

"Hmm?"

"They did it!"

"The kids?"

"Yep."

He frowned. "Their vacation is not over yet. How could they have done it already?"

"They found a passage between Grimauld and the School. I knew they had the touch."

"These three will go far. Mark my words."

"Funny name they chose: '_The Avengers_'. They say it's from a Muggle," he looked at the letter again, "_teevee_ series."

"What's that?"

"Don't know, but we can ask Dimitri."

Dimitri Tadpool was one of their Muggle born friends who had left school a year before them. He sometime worked for the shop, while waiting for a real full time job. They finished the morning's business and went to contact him during the lunch break. He remembered the series very well and tried to explain the general idea.

"I think there's a photo book on it in my parent's home. Wait a minute, and I'll see if I can find it."

Before the afternoon opening hour, Fred and George knew enough about the Avengers characters and theme to understand the trio's choice, and to approve.

"We promised them a bonus," remembered Fred, looking at the pictures.

"And I have the same idea as you," replied George.

"Madam Malkin's?"

"By all means."

- - -

The next day, a large box was discretely delivered to 12, Grimauld Place, addressed to Alicia and Richard Parker, and Silena Malfoy. The children quickly took it up to their rooms and opened it with more excitement than for their Christmas presents.

"Whoa!"

Richard took out a magnificent bowler hat, while the girls found two pairs of shiny black leather boots, magically charmed to fit them. A note signed by Fred and George accompanied the gifts, expressing their congratulations, and wishing them the best in their now official status of Hogwarts pranksters. A post-scriptum added that the hat and boots were equipped with self reduction charms for easy storage, and that they possessed additional properties that they would surely discover by themselves in time.

When Richard read that last he immediately took off the hat, suddenly anxious at what the wonted jokesters might have prepared for them. Alicia mocked him, and he was finally convinced that it couldn't be anything really dangerous. He tapped the hat with his wand and watched it being reduced to something he could put in his pocket. Another tap and the hat recovered its normal size.

"At least we're now fully equipped for the next term. I can't wait for it to start."

- - -

_London,_

Severus met Helen in front of Grimauld Place for their planned follow up experiment. The drive to the Imperial College was uneventful. He had chosen to wear a black casual suit. At her suggestion, he removed the tie and stored it in a pocket. They didn't talk much at first. He asked her to describe what her work consisted of, and she began to explain the mechanics of protein folding, and the use of crystallography. At one point, she stole a glance at him, and it was plain that he was badly lost.

"I'm afraid it's really a highly specialized domain," she said in apology. "There are some introductory presentations which I could show you, but I was not planning on going into that today."

He smiled wryly, and his voice was a little strained. He evidently didn't relish the idea of being ignorant in any subject.

"Yes I think it would be better if we kept to simpler things."

"Don't take it bad. I've been taking courses and practicing for more than ten years."

Privately, he was beginning to wonder what he could expect from this. It appeared more complicated every time he looked at it. He could drop the subject for now, but it did leave him with a need to talk about something else. Family could be a sensitive subject. He remembered from his Muggle studies courses, that most of these peoples had hobbies and side interests.

"Besides your work, what do you usually do?"

"For fun?"

He shrugged. "Yes."

"Well I like sports, and I'm into a number of clubs with the younger teachers."

They had arrived at their destination, and she drove into the faculty parking. Severus looked around. At least the buildings weren't made of glass and steel, but it was still a far cry from the Hogwarts castle.

"Sports?"

"Yes. Archery and rock climbing actually."

_I guess that explains the strong handshake._

She locked the car and led the way inside.

"Archery. Do you hunt animals? I thought you used more powerful weapons for that."

She chuckled. "No, no hunting. I only practice on targets. It's not something that has any application in real life. I'm just doing it for amusement."

"Ah."

They walked up a set of stairs and followed a corridor.

"And yourself?"

"In sports?" he asked. She nodded. "Nothing special, a little endurance and muscle exercises."

"It doesn't sound like something you'd be doing for fun."

He looked at her. He didn't see himself explaining that the main reason was to survive torture sessions and deadly battles.

"No, not for fun."

She didn't press. "Anything else?"

"When I'm not teaching, I like to spend time in private research." He looked at her. "Nothing as organized as what you do, I suppose. Most wizards work alone, or with a few correspondents."

They continued toward the lab area. She showed him a small office with the usual setup of computer screen and a mess of papers and documents.

"This is where I work. The actual lab is just down the corridor."

He looked around, trying to identify what he could. There was a very large poster on the wall with dozens of boxes and labels, liked by arrows. Intrigued, he moved closer and tried to decipher the diagrams. Nothing meant anything to him.

"That's the schematic for the Krebs cycle," she explained. "It's a kind of tradition to have one on a wall somewhere."

"What does it mean?" he asked, afraid to say anything precise.

"It's probably the most important biochemical processing in animals. In a very simplified way, it describes how we extract energy from food in order to make our muscles work."

"Oh."

"Very pretty isn't it?"

"Well ..."

She chuckled. "I'm not being fair to you. I'd be amazed, if you could understand more than a few details." He winced as she once again made him realize how incompetent he was, even if she evidently was not doing it on purpose. She continued more seriously. "The human body is a very complex chemical machine. Basically my area of work is to try to make sense of as much as possible of it."

He wanted to ask why someone would spend years in such a pursuit, but once again, he supposed that the answer would be obvious to her, and only serve to highlight his lack of knowledge. She saved him the embarrassment.

"One major reason is to find cure for diseases."

Yes. He remembered that Muggle didn't enjoy the immunity to illnesses that was one clear advantage of magical folks. He wondered if she knew that.

"Wizards don't get sick," he said curtly.

"Oh, yes. I'd forgotten that."

He smiled a little more smugly than he should have, but she didn't seem to mind.

They talked a little more, and Helen demonstrated other aspects of her research. The computer was an impressive tool, he wasn't sure that he understood how it worked exactly, but it was plain that she was using it intensively. They went over to the laboratories. The familiar vision of beakers and test tubes gave him back some assurance.

"From what I saw," she explained, "a big difference between your 'wet' work and mine is that since we can't use magic, we have to rely on very precise dosage and temperature control, hence these mechanical tools." She went on to explain the role of a few of the machines, and his sense of despair returned. After a moment she looked at him and saw his despondent face.

"Are you all right?"

"No." He sighed, thoroughly deflated.

"I do not exactly know what I expected," he continued, "but I am frankly bewildered by all this. What I was hoping to achieve looks impossible."

Merging the science of their two worlds had seemed such a powerful idea, but it was turning into a fool's quest. He looked at his portable chest and found that he didn't even want to try out the tests he'd planned for today.

"What did you want to do exactly?"

Severus supposed that might as well tell her. He explained how he would have liked to explore new directions in potion making using Muggle techniques.

"However I am now all too aware of the incredible complexity of your science, and the many differences in the most basic of procedures. It would take years to simply prepare for such a project."

She thought about it.

"Well maybe, but I for one would like to spend some more time on it before giving it up as a lost cause. Both subjects are highly complex and specialized, and they don't share the same logic at all, but something unexpected might yet come out of it."

Her optimistic words made him feel a little better. He gave a wry smile and gestured toward the chest.

"I hope you are not mistaken. The least I can do in response is to test how well, or how bad, my skills apply here."

"That's the spirit. I'll clear a spot for you."

Severus brewed two potions and checked the quality of the result. One was supposed to strengthen any material, and so it was fairly easy to measure the effect. He tested it on a piece of string and determined the breaking point, both with the new potion, and with one he'd prepared the day before at Hogwarts.

"The difference is quite important," she remarked.

"Yes. The effect of an 'ideal' brew is at least half as much as one made here."

"And did you test it in your laboratory?"

He smiled. "I did not forget your teachings. The effect is reduced here as well, but the place of brewing is still the most important factor."

She smiled back at him. "That's seems logical."

He sighed again and began to pack his tools.

"At least I have learned some useful things. Thank you again for your precious help."

"I'm glad we did it. It was fun, and I learned a lot as well. Do you want to grab a coffee?"

He hesitated. He was still very disappointed. Going back to Hogwarts would at least bring him back into the comfort of his familiar environment, but he would probably just keep on thinking about this failure and it would be depressing. He looked at her and decided that he would like share her company for a while longer.

"All right."

They retraced their steps and walked along the deserted corridors. At one point they heard exclamations coming from a nearby classroom. As they went past it, the sound level rose sharply and it sounded like a struggle.

"Damn it! There's a troll!"

"Protection spells everyone!"

"Move out of the way. I'm going to cast a fireball."

Severus took out his wand with the speed of a gunslinger and crouched in a defensive posture, facing the door behind which the sounds were coming. When no monster came out, he rushed forward to kick it open, and Helen barely managed to catch his arm. Once again he was surprised at her strength.

"Don't! It's just some peoples playing a game."

He looked at her in incomprehension. _Muggles playing a game with a Troll? _He saw that she was trying not to laugh at his reaction.

"It's a role playing game of sorcery and adventure," she explained.

"Role playing?" he asked, frowning.

She described it in a few words and he listened in amazement. These people were incredible. The Ministry was forever trying to keep wizards activity a secret, and they had a whole industry of games and stories about magic.

"I know this group. I often play with them. Do you want to have a look?"

He wasn't sure about that, but curiosity got the better of him and he nodded.

They were three young men and one woman, seated around a table with papers, books and small figurines. One of the men was behind a cardboard panel.

The players greeted them absently, fully taken as they were by their battle. Severus was wondering if he had entered some kind of asylum. He could understand that it was a game, but the 'wizards' used the most ridiculous spells he had ever heard of, and why did they have Muggle barbarians to fight and do things that magic could do much better? Then there was this obsession with rolling dices. At first he'd thought that it was some kind of divination device, but they kept talking of probabilities.

_It's just a game and it has nothing to do with reality._

He stole a glance at Helen, and he saw that she was following the action with undisguised passion. She had apparently forgotten all about coffee. He would have reminded her, but he was strangely reticent to interrupt, and in truth it was not unpleasant to see her like this. That woman was an enigma. How could she reconcile her obvious intelligence with such childish behavior? With a start he realized that once again, he was the odd man out. Harry and his friends, Dumbledore and now Helen. All of them playing whenever they had the chance to.

_Bless McGonagall and her serious mien. I never felt closer to her._

Severus couldn't imagine 'having fun' at anything. He'd never liked games and the most enjoyable activity he could think of would be to decipher the long lost potions notes of Merlin. He imagined himself opening the dusty volume in his private quarters.

Alone.

What about what he had done with Helen the other day? Yes that had been a fine moment. The thrill of discovery and the pleasure of intellectual exchange. He looked at her again. They were all hanging on to the result of every combat, and even he was beginning to find their actions captivating. The system for computing damage was simple but effective. As the battle drew to an end, two characters were lying unconscious on the ground. He understood that they could be cured - by the survivor, if he could manage to kill the last Troll.

"Critical hit!" More dices were rolled. "37 points."

"Okay, the Troll's dead." Cheers broke out.

"I search the corpse, and then I'm pouring burning oil on him."

_Burning oil? What in the world for?_

"Right. You find a small wooden amulet and 5 gold pieces."

The dungeon master passed the players a drawing of what the amulet looked like. Severus twisted his neck and tried to analyze the pseudo runes he could see on it. It didn't make any sense but maybe it was some kind of code.

"Shall we go?" asked Helen, interrupting his thoughts.

"Hmm?" He checked himself. "Yes, by all means."

They said goodbye to the group and left the room, moving toward the exit.

"So you actually play that game?" he asked.

"Oh yes. I'd been playing for years before meeting Ethan, I even made him join my old gang." She stopped talking for a moment. She continued with a subdued voice. "I stopped right after ..." she lost focus. "Then I started again when Alicia and Richard left for Hogwarts. It was - I don't know, a way to be closer to them," she added wishfully, turning away.

He could understand how hard it must be for her to be astride two universes, not being fully part of either, and being alone as well. Loneliness was something he was familiar with. His usual reaction to pain in others was self protective indifference, but for some strange reason he felt a need to do something.

"I'm sorry." The lack of anything more comforting to say bothered him. On an impulse, he reached out and touched her arm. She moved to turn back toward him and his hand brushed against her side and back. He jerked it back as if he'd just touched a burning surface. She glanced at it and raised her eyes, giving him a look of sympathy.

"You don't like to touch people don't you," she said gently.

"I ..." He swallowed. "No."

"Why do you try to be such a hard and strong man? I can see that you have feelings like everybody else."

_Why are they all coming at me like that?_

He shook his head violently.

"For Merlin's sake!" he snapped. She jerked backward.

The incessant calling out for his emotions was taking his toll on him. He would have screamed in rage, but the Headmaster was right. Anger was not the solution anymore. He didn't know what was. Like a desperate man on the verge of a cliff, he was clinging to branches and struggling not to fall. He took a deep breath.

"This is not ... easy for me," he said more calmly.

She looked at him. Curiosity had replaced sadness. She wanted to ask him what the matter was, but it was plain that he was trying very hard to keep himself under control. Her spontaneous response would have been to try and get into the open whatever was bothering him, but the man was too much of a mystery for her. He wasn't some shy boy, unsure of himself. She had seen the strength of his personality. His reaction that of someone battered by unknown pressures. She said nothing and moved away a little. Giving him some vital space seemed to do the trick, because he relaxed visibly, all the while keeping his eyes turned away from her.

"Coffee?" she asked after a moment. He nodded curtly, and they resumed walking.

Thankfully the cafeteria was empty. She indicated a corner table. He went to sit there and looked at absently at his right hand, slowly flexing the fingers. She got two cups of coffee, some cream and sugar and joined him. He took a careful sip of his, and then drained the cup.

"I take it you like our brew?" she asked lightly.

He nodded again, and then raised his face at last. Her eyes begged unvoiced questions.

"Please forgive me," he said. "Personal troubles," he added vaguely.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked gently.

He took some time before answering.

"I do not know," he said finally. He checked himself, realizing how stupid his answer was. "I mean no. I still need to think about it."

"Too much thinking is not always a good thing. Sometimes it's better to talk with a friend."

He looked at her and reminded himself that she was not some silly, emotion ridden girl, but a very intelligent woman.

_And if anyone is emotion ridden here, it's bloody well me._

"I hope you can consider me as a friend," she continued. "Even if we don't know each other very well."

Her words made him think of the few friends he had, present and past. Lucius, Dumbledore, Harry, Remus. _Better now than before, certainly._ Friendship was not always an easy thing, both for him and for them, but it had helped him a lot.

"I would be happy to be your friend," he replied softly.

A cheerful smile brightened her features, surprising him. He couldn't remember ever having brought such a reaction to anyone before. The feeling was unsettling but whatever it was, he wanted to do it again.

"Thank you. I would be glad to have a friend among ..." She gestured in the air.

"Wizard folks?"

"Yes."

He looked her carefully and tried to analyze the situation objectively.

"That game, your interest in potions. You really want to be part of our world."

She nodded, suddenly reticent, as if she was admitting to a fault. Her hands played with her empty cup.

"Do you realize the difficulties?" he asked gently.

She looked up at him for just an instant. Yearning and a touch of pain showed in her eyes, and then she turned away and shrugged.

"Whatever I do. It's going to be hard." She forced a smile. "Maybe I'll find someone else, another Ethan."

_She's a Muggle. She doesn't belong. It can only cause trouble._

Logic told him it was not a good idea, and normally that would be enough for Severus Snape. He would do what he felt was his duty. It might not be pleasant, but it was the guarantee of a well ordered universe.

_Sure. With logic Voldemort would still be there. Some order._

He remembered the chaos of the Chamber of Secret, and the Headmaster's words of the previous day.

... _your heart is as important as your mind ..."_

He looked at the woman in front of him, whom he had just called a friend, and who was evidently desperate for a chance to come back to the community which had rejected her. He made a decision.

"Helen?"

She looked up, her eyes hoping that he would say something encouraging.

"There are several occasions when parents are invited to the school, or to the village," he started. The previous sunny smile had returned on her face, maybe even brighter. "I can arrange this for you, and perhaps other things as well. Would you like that?"

He didn't have to ask. Her expression was eloquent enough. He couldn't help smiling himself. A warm sensation of contentment filled him.

"Thank you. You don't know what it would mean to me."

"I can see that." She chuckled as if it was a laughing matter, but her eyes were a little bright.

"Do you want another cup?"

"No. I think that I will be going now."

"Can I drive you somewhere?"

"That will not be necessary. I will find a quiet spot and Disapparate."

"I can show you a good place for that."

They left the cafeteria and she led the way to one of the courtyard. There was a small recess between two buildings.

"No one will see you from here." He looked around to check and nodded in agreement. When he turned back toward her, she suddenly launched herself and hugged him fiercely. He froze rigidly before awkwardly wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

"I know you don't like to be touched," she murmured, "but I want you to know that I really appreciate what you're doing." He grunted but didn't protest.

She released him. He grimaced in embarrassment, but his hand stayed a little longer against her arm.

"I have enjoyed the time we have spent together Helen. I will be glad to see you again."

"Me too."

He stepped away and she waved at him.

"Bye bye."

His hand gestured in response. He smiled one last time and Disapparated. Helen looked at the empty spot where he'd just been and hugged herself gleefully. She walked toward her car in brisk, dancing steps, and thinking happy thoughts.


	13. Chapter 12 Dinner at the Parkinsons

_Draco and Ginny are invited to a "society" dinner at the Parkinsons. They will meet several interesting peoples..._

* * *

**_Chapter 12 - Dinner at the Parkinsons_**

_Grimauld Place,_

Ginny finished applying a last touch of lipstick and then checked her looks in the mirror. She uttered a low voiced command and the image turned to display her profile and back. Magical mirrors are quite useful that way, sparing elegant witches of the need to twist their necks to try and determine how that last dab of makeup will look like from the sidelines. Satisfied at last, she stood up and adjusted the scarf on her shoulders. For a moment she gave in to the pleasure of simply admiring her reflection.

_Draco made a gorgeous choice with this._

The scarf was a perfect way to introduce the rich Slytherin green tones with her red hair and the golden brown of her dress. It had been her Christmas gift.

_Green and gold, these are really going to be our private colors. Full of symbols actually, the perfect marriage between our Houses._

"Yes you're beautiful," said Draco from behind her, negligently leaning on the doorframe "but you're also late."

She checked her watch guiltily, but there was still plenty of time. It was ten to eight, and they would be Apparating from the street.

"I'm not late!" she protested.

"That's debatable. Anyhow Severus is downstairs, waiting."

"Then we're all ready and in time," she said gaily, joining him. "Let's go then."

Severus was dressed in his usual black attire, minimally adorned with an elegant silver clasp holding his cape to the shoulder pad of his tunic.

"Good evening Miss Weasley," he greeted her with a slight bow.

_You'd think he would be calling me by my first name by now._

"Good evening, sir," she answered warmly. "I'm delighted that you will be with us tonight."

"My pleasure," he murmured.

She still had trouble figuring him out. The man never really let down his guard, at least not with her. The animosity and unpleasantness of the past years had been replaced by a formal politeness but only a few people, Draco and Harry in particular, seemed able to relax with him.

Severus' expression didn't betray anything, but she would have been surprised to learn that he was just as confused by her as she was by him. Even though she acted completely openly with everyone, he couldn't accept the fact that anyone could be as artless as she appeared, especially with such a reputation for having her way on many issues.

_She cannot be so manipulative for most things, and not for personal matters as well._

Then again, he was trying to see things differently than through the lens of Slytherin paranoia, but it was difficult enough with the people he felt closer to. Concerning Ginny, he figured that the best strategy was to see how Draco was handling her.

_Either he prevails, and one day I may understand what she truly is, or he doesn't, and then I will be ready to pick up the pieces._

"Shall we go?" he asked. "We can Apparate in the park and take our time to walk to the house."

The three of them stepped outside the house's wards. The Parkinsons had provided them with the proper coordinates, and a minute later, they found themselves in the middle of a large open space. The ground at their feet was made up of fine white gravel, and there wasn't a trace of plant life close to them, not even grass. Instead, several statues stood where one would have expected trees and bushes to be. They had arrived at some distance from the main house, and Severus bid them to start walking.

The gravel made their movement anything but discrete. Ginny saw the closest statues turn their head toward them. She raised an inquiring eye at Draco.

"Typical old Slytherin family protection. These are actually golem sentinels. If we weren't expected they would attack us."

Ginny looked again. The statues we certainly menacing. Most of them looked like small, fast moving demons with nasty looking talons. Others were as big as Hagrid and looked very strong.

"But why?" she asked. "I never heard of any Slytherin house being attacked." _Not even by Death Eaters, but I better be quiet about that._

"Me neither, but it certainly happened in the past. I think there was some mention of it in one of the Goblin rebellion." He shrugged. "Anyway, all this is really an old tradition."

She spoke without thinking.

"Did you have any at your -" She broke off as she saw his eyes darken. "Sorry."

"At Malfoy Manor, we had guardian plants in the park around the house ..."

The question brought back images from the past. He looked away sadly and stopped walking. The memory still ached.

"It was beautiful in the evening," he continued in a listless voice. "I remember shades of grey and silver. The wind made them sing ..." He shook his head.

"I'm very sorry," she repeated, moving closer to him.

His hands clenched into fists.

"The only one to blame is my _father_." He snarled out the word like a hateful thing.

Severus was waiting impatiently for them. He must have overheard their conversation, but he said nothing. They resumed walking. Ginny was beginning to feel a little apprehensive. She'd tried not to thing about it before, but now she couldn't get out of her mind the horror which had followed the last time she had shaken Mrs. Parkinson's hand.

She felt the shakes coming on. They both noticed it. Draco held her hand more firmly. Severus' mouth was set in a thin line as he looked at her with annoyance, and she could almost hear him snicker about the limits of Gryffindor courage.

_He's such a hard man._

She could be hard herself. With an effort of will, she calmed her trembling. Her heart was still beating wildly, but she spoke with a firm voice, giving the potion master a level look.

_I have nothing to fear._

"Shall we knock then?"

She saw him sigh silently. Actually he had been getting ready to reassure her. The unflinching look on his face was merely his default expression. He had only sighed on realizing that he had missed an opportunity to show sympathy. Then again he had been preparing himself mentally for the coming interactions with the people they would meet inside, and he knew that _they_ would certainly not be artless innocents.

_This is getting too complicated._

He turned toward the door and called out a greeting to the severe looking figure engraved on it. The face moved and gave them a sinister smile as the door opened.

_I have nothing to fear,_ Ginny repeated to herself.

Two Elves greeted them and offered to take their cloaks. The house was surprisingly colorful, much more than she expected. She'd really thought that it would be like the Malfoy's. Instead, it actually reminded her of Hogwarts. Like the school, there were a lot of medieval antiques and paintings. They were led to a large room were several people were already present. Mr. and Mrs. Parkinsons approached to meet them. They spotted Pansy, a little distance away, talking with another witch.

"Oh wonderful, there you are," said Mrs. Parkinson warmly. "Welcome Miss Weasley, professor Snape, and you Draco."

Severus and Draco bowed respectfully, and Ginny managed a not too clumsy curtsy. She had been practicing for part of the morning.

"We are most honored, Madam, sir," said Severus stiffly.

"Miss Weasley, I am very happy to have you with us tonight," announced Mr. Parkinson, taking her hand and giving her a small bow. He was much more regal and dignified than his wife.

Ginny was resigning herself to an evening of stuffy politeness, when Mrs. Parkinson trotted quickly to her and took her arm in a very motherly manner.

"I'm really glad you came tonight, my dear. I'm still appalled at what happened last time, and I was so frightened that you might never want to have anything more to do with us." Before Ginny could protest, she went on. "It's horrible, truly horrible." She shivered. "To think that Lucius would do such a thing ..." She stole a frightened look toward Draco, but he didn't seem to be paying attention. She turned back toward Ginny. "Never mind. You are all right now, are you?"

"Er, yes," said Ginny, surprised and a little embarrassed.

"You are very brave, and a lovely young woman too. I really want you to know that I appreciate your coming, and I sincerely hope you'll have a good time."

"Thank you." Ginny recovered, and gave her most charming smile. "You certainly make me feel very welcome."

_This is a Slytherin? I don't believe it!_

Her surprise must still be visible on her face, because Mrs. Parkinson leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"I know what you're thinking, but you need to know that we're not all stuffy old prigs, despite the reputation some of us have."

Ginny opened her eyes in horror and shook her head.

"No! Er, I mean, of course not."

She was terribly uncomfortable, but the older woman was smiling as she talked. Despite her fussy and somewhat silly manners, her eyes were twinkling, not unlike Dumbledore's. She took the occasion to draw her toward a corner of the room.

"You wouldn't be completely wrong of course," she continued. "Some of us are insufferable, but it's the same in all families, you know."

Ginny thought about Percy for a moment, and quickly reacted with guilt. Percy had come back to them in their time of need. Before she realized it, she found herself facing Pansy who had been watching them with some apprehension..

"I'm very happy about you and Draco," continued Mrs. Parkinson. "Of course, Pansy's had her eyes on that fine young man for some time, and to be frank I was somewhat hoping myself-"

"Mother!" exclaimed Pansy, horrified.

"Please, I really think you make a smashing couple. You must think I'm doting to speak to you like that, but don't mind me." She turned her head and spotted a new guest arriving. "Oh, excuse me. I have to go and welcome our dear professor Boocrat. I'll just leave you two together."

She moved away toward a very old wizard who was just coming in. The girls looked at each other awkwardly. They hadn't really gotten along together during the trimester, and Pansy had been avoiding Ginny since the incident with Montague. An elf passed near with a platter full of glasses of sparkling wine. Pansy took the occasion to grab two glasses.

"Here," she said, giving one to Ginny.

"Thank you," said Ginny. "To your health."

"To yours."

They took a sip. The cool liquid was soothing. Ginny was trying to find something to say.

"Your mother is very nice," she offered.

"Yes, she ..." Pansy knew her mother very well, and she wasn't always as charming as tonight, far from it. Of course, she had deliberately arranged for the two girls to be together, and for an obvious reason. Pansy had not wanted to attend this diner, but her parents had been adamant.

"Oh Ginny, I'm really sorry about what happened," she suddenly exclaimed, losing all pretense, and looking at her anxiously. "I swear to you that I didn't know what they had been planning."

She was close to tears. Ginny didn't know how to respond. The simplest thing would have been to continue ignoring each other, but of course that was impossible.

"Yes, that's what Draco told me," she said evenly. Watching the other girl for any sign of play acting.

"Listen, Ginny," said Pansy with a trembling voice, looking her in the eye. "I'll never forget what I saw when he unmasked Montague and the others. We were all terrified. It's true that I was jealous of you. I thought that you had stolen Draco from me, but that night I understood that ... both of you are different. He's strong, and so are you. I ... I mean, you don't have anything to fear from me now."

She was holding her glass so tightly that Ginny was almost ready to see it break in her hand. It didn't look like she was lying. Ginny thought about what Harry would do in such a situation. She didn't have his disposition for forgiveness, but he had proved that it could be a powerful tool.

_Maybe she's sincere, and I will certainly need more friends among her people._

"It's okay," said Ginny softly. "Why don't we just forget about all this and start over. What do you think?"

Pansy swallowed and nodded eagerly, looking tremendously relieved. If it was an act, she was an inhumanly good comedian. Ginny touched the other girl's glass with her own, and Pansy returned a timid smile. They stayed silent for a moment, but without the previous awkwardness. After a while, Mrs. Parkinson came back toward them, accompanied by Draco. One look at her daughter's face told her that one particular problem was solved.

"Come, my dears. Allow me to introduce our other guests," she said, guiding them toward the center of the room. "Of course they all know you already. Please meet an old friend of mine, Terry Arlington." He gestured toward a large and tall man in a tartan dress robe. "Terry works for the Auror division of the Ministry."

"A pleasure to meet you young Lady, young man. Alastor has nothing but praise for you, and I wish to offer my most sincere congratulations on your exploits."

"Thank you sir," answered Draco. "Did you work with Moody?"

"I had the privilege to be his trainee for some years, and we actually worked together until I moved to management duties at the Ministry." He gave Severus a knowing glance. "I understand that you made good use of some of our, er... _obsolete_ equipment."

Severus nodded gravely.

"Yes sir, and if you had anything to do with that assistance, then we are certainly in your debt. They were essential to us in our time of need."

"In that case I'm more than glad. I'm confident that our young wizards and witches are in good hands," he turned toward Pansy. "Don't you agree my dear?"

She turned a fearful face toward the professor.

"Of course. Good evening professor," she said quickly. Severus inclined his head slightly. and continued the conversation with their hosts.

Mr. Parkinson led them to the next guests, a young man with a very confident attitude and dressed in elegant green colors. He had been talking with an older couple.

"Lady and Sir Comil, who are the majority investors in Nimbus Flyware, and Trevor Themis, who works at the Ministry. He is in charge of relations with the Wizengamot."

_Nimbus brooms!_ thought Ginny._ Now that's a connection I can relate with._

"Very glad to meet you," said the older man graciously. "Your Chocolate Frog card shows you playing Quidditch, young Lady," he added toward Ginny, "but my feeble eyes couldn't identify the one you were using."

"Er, actually I make do with an old... hum, Cleansweep model," she confessed in embarrassment. She dearly hoped he wouldn't inquire as the actual reason. The lack of money to buy anything better, which was even more humiliating than admitting to use a broom made by a competitor. Draco intervened to save her.

"But I'm sure she's not going to keep it for much longer," he said. "I ride a Nimbus myself and I'm fully aware of its superior quality." He gave Ginny a wry smile.

"And it is a tribute to Miss Weasley's talent that with such a handicap the Gryffindor team still manages to beat Slytherin," added Severus with his old derisive voice.

Draco jumped as if he'd been pricked. Anger and pride flashed on his face. The others, Ginny included, watched him with evident amusement. He tried to mask his annoyance as best as he could.

"You are correct, sir, that we did poorly in the past, but we haven't lost a match this year," he said, keen to defend his House's team.

"Yes," conceded Ginny maliciously. "You won... against Hufflepuff, and we trounced Ravenclaw!"

Draco and Severus shot her a disgusted look. Trevor smiled and Mr. Comil laughed goodheartedly.

"Ah the passion of competition! I see that it exists even inside your little group. Excellent." He turned toward Draco. "I seem to recall a significant order for Slytherin House some years ago."

Draco swallowed. The team didn't even have the excuse of defective brooms.

"Er, yes," he admitted. "A full set of Nimbus 2001, ordered for us by my father."

"A most generous investment!" Mr. Comil was clearly enjoying himself.

"But of dubious return," maintained Severus severely. Draco grimaced but held his ground.

"I offer no excuses," he said proudly, "but we will win back the cup this year."

"Is that a challenge?" asked Ginny, frowning.

Draco bowed toward her with exaggerated ceremonial.

"I have pledged my love and support for you in all things, but Quidditch remains a neutral ground," he said soberly. "I hope you won't make an issue of it," he added with some uneasiness.

She giggled.

"Oh no, at least as long as the playing field is level." She turned toward Mr. Comil. "It wouldn't be fair for all of them to have the latest models don't you think?" she added. Severus snorted.

"Harry has a Firebolt!" exclaimed Draco. He narrowed his eyes. "Actually you've been wining ever since."

"I thought you weren't going to made excuses," she countered.

Draco threw a pleading look at Mr. Comil. The man exchanged a quick glance with Severus then addressed her.

"Miss Weasley if you will excuse us, I think I have some things to discuss with our young friend," he said.

"Hey! Wait a minute!" she called. Trevor laughed loudly, and they all looked at her. Draco had something close to the old smirk she remembered so well. She hardened her look.

_I'm not going to stop them, but at least I can place limits on what they do._

"Let him have anything you want, but the rest of the team keeps what they have," she proposed.

Draco took his time answering, pursing his mouth this way and that, as if he might reject her offer and push his advantage.

_He'd better not, and he will pay for every second he makes me wait._

"Draco ..." she said menacingly.

Her gaze held his, and she make clear what she was thinking. He seemed to get the right message, because he suddenly nodded.

"All right, one broom," he agreed.

Ginny said nothing. She wasn't smiling anymore.

"And I'll even give you my old Nimbus," he added.

"Such a generous gift," she finally replied with an icy voice. "Your old broom. I'm thrilled."

Draco nervously wondered if he'd gone too far, but their exchange was interrupted by the raucous laughter of Mr. Comil and Trevor. Ginny turned toward Mrs. Parkinson who looked at her approvingly.

"Well done my dear," she praised. "Those young men are often apt to get too cocky. Oh, but your glass is empty, let me give you a refill."

"Please do not trouble yourself, my Lady," interrupted Trevor. "I will take care of it. Same thing?" Ginny nodded and surrendered her glass.

Mrs. Parkinson smiled in thanks and went on to introduce her to the rest of the guests. Ginny greeted everyone politely and tried desperately to keep track of the many faces presented to her. A few minutes later, when they were listening to a boring old witch who was rambling about her younger days at Hogwarts, apparently sometime before the Second World War, Trevor came back and rescued her.

"Ah, Miss Weasley there you are. Madam Dragonis, you are as magnificent as ever. A thousand pardons but may I steal the young lady from your company?"

The old lady smiled kindly and made some wistful remark about the impetuosity of youth. Trevor confidently took Ginny's arm and led her to a quiet spot across the room.

"I feared you'd forgotten me," she murmured.

"That would be impossible," he replied gallantly, giving her a new filled glass. She sipped carefully, not used to the alcohol. "Everyone wants to meet you," he continued, waving at the group of guests, "even the old bores, but make no mistake. All of these people are influent in their way, so there's good reason to talk with them." He stopped walking and gave her a charming smile. "But I was the one most keen to make your acquaintance."

"Oh." She didn't know how to analyze this.

_Is he hitting on me? I hope not. Handsome as he is he must be used to sweeping 'young ladies' off their feet at every party._

She gave him back a shy smile. He reacted with some surprise and shook his head with a confident chuckling, which she suddenly found very annoying.

"I almost forgot that you're a Gryffindor. Please don't imagine that I'm flirting with you." She blushed furiously and glared back at him. "I'm sorry, I've embarrassed you and it's entirely my fault."

"No offense," she replied in a cold voice.

He became immediately contrite and bowed his head.

"Please don't be mad at me. I honestly didn't mean anything and I really should have known better." She mellowed a bit.

_Let's not be ridiculous, and let's not make an enemy before even knowing anything about him._

"It's all right," she said finally. "I guess I'm the clumsy one here."

He raised his face and flashed a dazzling smile.

"You're a beautiful young thing and far from clumsy." He winked. "After all you're a great Quidditch player." He raised his glass to her. "No hard feelings?"

She laughed. He was so charming that it was impossible to hold out to him.

"I'll accept that. No hard feelings, but was there a special reason for wanting to know me?"

His face became more serious.

"Not only you but also your friend, the star pupil of Slytherin who is aiming for a political career."

Her eyes narrowed.

"How do you know that?"

He shrugged.

"Rumors, confessions, deductions," he waived negligently at unseen elements around him. "The opposite would truly surprise me." He took a sip and suddenly narrowed his gaze at her. "Am I wrong?"

She knew her expression had already given away anything she might have wanted to hide.

_Damn! I'll never take a drink with a Slytherin again._

"Yeah," she admitted. "But if you want to talk about that, I would really insist that we be together."

He nodded soberly.

"Of course, you'll be operating as partners." Her eyes opened wide. He gave her a sly smile. "I know about that too."

_How does he know all this? That information never appeared in the newspaper articles._ She forced her mind to concentrate.

"You've been doing research about us?" she challenged. When he didn't response she thought about it some more. "Of course. You want to understand the power that was used to destroy ..." He raised a finger in warning and she frowned. "Come on surely anyone can say his name now." He shook his head.

"Not here. It's not that simple. Some people have been afraid for too long, and he did return once." He cocked his head toward the main group of guests. "In this house everyone will still refer to him as a Dark Lord."

She had a flash of insight.

"As if he was a recurrent figure," she murmured. "I bet that's how they talked of Grindelwald."

He nodded approvingly.

"You understand very well, and of course, it's something that you can use to your advantage."

She smiled cautiously, her mind was racing and she knew that she was probably missing things. She tried to stall for time.

"Begging your pardon, but when a Slytherin starts to talk about my advantage, I look to where his own interest lies."

Trevor didn't show any surprise. She was babbling about obvious things, but he had to remember that she was a young Gryffindor. No matter how gifted she might be, some things would not be as evident to her as they were to him.

_It would have been simpler to wait for Malfoy, but she needs to be fully a part of this. At least that way I may get her to let slip some information._

He decided that the candid approach might be best.

"My interest is to gain prestige and influence, and at the same time defend beliefs which I believe we share." He moved closer and lowered his voice. "We have more in common than most of the old guard at the Ministry. Cooperation is therefore logical."

She thought about it. Inwardly, she was thrilled at the idea to enter that particular arena, and she knew Draco wanted it even more. It was really a shame that they had to finish their schooling first.

"I have already attained a significant position," he added, "but I am still a junior public servant whose career depends on careful association with the powerful. I know several people who would appreciate your support, and I'm sure that you would agree with their views."

"And we would bring the sanction of the slayers of the Dark Lord," she completed.

_She may lack experience but at least she's not stupid._

"Not a trivial thing, as you no doubt realize," he agreed. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that dinner was being served. He bent down to her ear and whispered quickly. "We must go now. Take your time, but think about it."

He bowed gracefully and moved away. She followed him with thoughtful eyes, letting go only when Draco's hand took her arm.

"Interesting conversation?" he asked.

"Very."

She couldn't say any more. The different guests were being led to the table, and it wasn't the kind of subject which could be discussed among a crowd. Fortunately they had other means of communication. She took his hand, and they murmured the incantation which opened a limited mental rapport. Images flashed through Draco's mind, and he grunted in understanding. They would still need to use words for him to be aware of the full extend of her conversation, but at least he knew enough to be on his guard.

They saw Trevor take leave of a portly middle aged wizard who had been introduced as Lord Septimus Shrummer, an important member of the Wizengamot. The younger man then let himself be led to his assigned place on the other side of the table. He and Ginny were guided as well to their chairs, at the right hand of the hosts. Severus was across from them.

When everyone was seated, the servants began to serve the first dish, and fill their glasses with wine. Ginny noted with relief that water glasses were also provided and already filled. All in all, she was quite intimidated by the imposing ceremonial, up to the beautiful disposition of the seafood salad in her plate. The Hogwarts feasts had been the most impressing eating experiences in her life, but compared to this there were crude country picnics. She was more than a little worried about etiquette.

_I just know I'm going to make a fool of myself._

Pansy was seated at her side and seemed to guess her trouble. She bent to whisper softly.

"Are you all right?"

Ginny decided that she would put her newborn friendship to the test.

"I'm not used to that kind of thing, I'll probably use the wrong fork or whatever and that will just ruin my image," she whispered back.

"Relax, just follow my lead, use the cutlery farthest from the plate first and hold your glass by the hemp, never by the cup or you'll leave finger marks." She chuckled. "I assume you won't stuff your mouth with food or belch rudely or anything like that?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, but smiled her thanks at the other girl. Soon everybody was eating and small talk buzzed around the table. She noticed that most of the serious conversation seemed to be initiated by the older folks. For the majority of couples, a single person would most of the talking, usually the wizard, but not always. The salad was followed by beautifully decorated bird roasts. Wild venison by the look of it. A dark red wine was served with it and when the glasses were all filled, Lord Shrummer raised his glass and addressed Mrs. Parkinson with flourish.

"Once again your table is a pure delight my Lady," he said in a deep bass voice. "Will you allow me to raise a toast?"

"But of course my Lord," she answered gracefully. She and everyone else took their glass in hand. "Whom, or what would you toast?"

He raised his glass.

"To our good fortune, the defeat of a terrible menace," he turned toward Draco and Ginny, "and to the valiant youths who made it happen."

"Hear, hear." Sound of assent was heard all over the table and everyone was looking at them. Ginny blushed, and Draco squirmed in his chair. Sips were taken and some hand clapping followed. When silence returned Draco stood up, bowed and begged a silent question to Mrs. Parkinson who nodded amiably.

"Thank you for such an honor my Lord, my ladies and sirs," he said smoothly. "It is truly a pleasure to be with you tonight, and I wish to renew my thanks to our generous hostess and host." He bowed and more hand clapping followed.

"Well said, lad," said Lord Shrummer approvingly. "You match valiance with style, and that speaks well for the defense of those principles we should never forget." He looked around. "If we had paid them more attention, then perchance we wouldn't have to battle a new Dark Lord every twenty years."

"Were it only that simple, Septimus," said another old wizard. "Most of them take pretext on _defending_ those very ideals. They are even usually acclaimed for it in the beginning."

"Demetrius has a point my Lord," added Mr. Parkinson. "How can we be sure to identify such perversions?"

"No single wizard or witch can that is certain," replied Lord Shrummer with assurance. "This is why we must rely on our most trusted traditions, and select a proper _group_ of people to implement them." He gestured toward Draco and Ginny. "Like these youngsters have."

"Really, Septimus," replied Madam Dragonis, "far from me to belittle what they have done but surely consider the circumstances. You know as well as I do that Fudge refused them assistance, and you yourself sat trial on the Potter boy." She turned toward Draco and Ginny. "What you did was magnificent, but it when did tradition command that students be charged with such a task?"

Ginny felt Trevor's calculating eyes on her.

_He's expecting us to enter this power play. Is it a trap?_

She touched Draco's hand and expressed her thought. He was asking himself the same thing.

_This situation certainly looks to have been arranged. Interestingly, if I say the truth, I will basically support Shrummer, and indirectly Trevor._

Normally he wouldn't take part in such a debate without having more information about who was really standing for what. Whatever he did, he was sure to make at least one enemy and that was never good. His problem was that there was no good way out of this. If he backed out, he would be seen a weakling, or a weasel, and he would probably lose all hopes of working with any of these people.

And what Trevor had said to Ginny was very much true. They had a lot to gain by working together.

_Okay, here goes._

"Actually Madam, we did follow tradition, but we went back much farther for it," he said finally. A look of triumph showed briefly across Trevor's features. Nothing but sincere curiosity could be seen on Lord Shrummer's face, but the man was certainly much too experienced to let anything show.

"Now what could you possibly mean by that?" she responded with annoyance. Draco chose his words carefully.

"There was no way, of course, that we could have managed to vanquish the Dark Lord without help," he said. "Not even professor Dumbledore could best him, but he devised a plan for his downfall." The entire table looked at him with interest. "He arranged for us to recreate some of the magic of the Hogwarts Founders. It was those ancient traditions which we followed."

Gasps of surprise and other reactions could be heard along the table.

"The Founders!"

"This is incredible!"

"How could that be?"

The noise went down after a while, and several people were frowning. A very old wizard, who hadn't spoken previously, addressed them in an old and croaky voice.

"I have made it my life's work to learn about these things, and I must say that I am highly surprised," he said, with a disdainful tone that was reminiscent of professor Snape at his worse. "The Founders left very little about them, aside from the school itself, and most of the tradition assigned to them is limited to the general moral principles attributed to each House, and well known by most of us."

He didn't quite call Draco a liar but it was close. Pansy bent toward Ginny's ear.

"That's professor Alan Boocrat. He's an Unspeakable at the Ministry," she whispered.

Draco stole a glance at Severus who nodded slightly. Addressing the professor, he answered in a calm confident voice.

"I was fortunate enough to visit Salazar's Retreat and to have access to the last relic of the Founders. I refer to Sorting Hat of course."

The old scholar frowned.

"Who took upon himself to show you the secret of these things?" he asked brusquely. Those who knew of the last dwelling of Salazar were fascinated or horrified, the others were busily asking questions. Not a few of them were surprised that such a mystery had been disclosed to a mere student.

"I did sir," replied Severus. All heads turned toward him at once and a heavy silence fell on the assembly. He didn't flinch and continued. "I was so instructed by professor Dumbledore."

No one said anything. Certainly, Dumbledore had the right to authorize such a thing, and after all it seemed to have worked. Slytherins being anything if not practical, that particular issue was closed.

The scholar returned his gaze toward Draco.

"You were most privileged to see such wonders," he went on. "Pray, tell us what they did for you?"

Draco couldn't hide a sly smile while anticipating their reactions. He adjusted his position in his seat and lengthened their wait by a few seconds. He could see everyone, except Ginny and Severus, hanging on to his words.

"In that particular location the Hat ... talked to me, and invited me to visit its inner space." He paused again to let them imagine what it had been like. "I came upon a room where the Founders were sitting, well their avatars obviously. I addressed them and Salazar Slytherin agreed to instruct me."

Aside from a couple of muted exclamations, no one said anything. They looked at the old wizard, waiting for him to accept or refute such an extraordinary claim. It was plain that he was far from convinced.

"What proof can you offer of this?" he challenged.

Draco shrugged.

"I can describe what I saw and answer your questions, I could even place some memory into a pensieve if you'd like."

Lord Shrummer turned toward Mr. Parkinson.

"That sounds like a very good idea. Could you arrange that sir?" Their host nodded and a few minutes later, a servant brought an ornate silver cup to the table. It was placed in front of Draco who concentrated a moment and retrieved one of his last conversations with Salazar, when they had discussed the fate of Voldemort.

Everyone watched with bated breath as the cup was placed in the center of the table, and the scene was replayed for all to see, as quarter sized pictures of Salazar and Draco conversed.

When it was over, the scholar went back for some stills of the encounter, and he examined closely the small figures. Afterwards, he stayed silent for a few seconds before nodding toward Draco.

"I accept this as genuine," he said in a voice which had become noticeably more respectful. He took out his wand and wiped the content of the pensieve. Mr. Parkinson cried out in surprise.

"This information is priceless! How could you have erased it?" he demanded.

"Aye, it is priceless indeed," responded the scholar," but the Founders were very clear that no precise memories of themselves be left behind. It was the same wish that Merlin himself expressed." He turned toward Draco. "I believe what you said, yet I wonder what could command Salazar Slytherin to take a new apprentice. Surely it wasn't simply a matter of asking politely?"

Draco grimaced and stole a glance at Severus.

"No it wasn't." He paused a moment, and his gaze was lost in the distance. "I had just faced several hard truths about my life. I was invited to use the Hat and ... let's just say that he gave me another chance." He turned toward Severus and the two seemed to share something inexpressible.

"Some of us are very fortunate in their friends and mentors," murmured Severus. Draco nodded silently.

The rest of the assistance was cowed as they digested the importance of what had been shown. This was as close to a religious experience as anything in their world. It was some time before they resumed eating, and none of them said anything. Mrs. Parkinson was the first to react. She gestured toward the senior Elf and commanded him to bring the next dishes.

Trevor and Lord Shrummer stole several measuring looks at Draco. Pansy looked at her mother and saw her triumphant expression. Tomorrow, this dinner would be talked about by the entire wizard high society, and certainly for months. Her reputation would rise to unprecedented levels, and ever more people would fight to be invited at her next reception.

The rest of the meal went by in a lighter atmosphere and after dessert Mrs. Parkinson invited everyone to return to the main ballroom. More drinks were served, and Draco and Ginny gravitated naturedly toward the two men.

"You put us on the spot beautifully," said Draco to Trevor with some reproach.

"And you responded admirably," answered Lord Shrummer. "Let us stop playing games. You have shown that you understand these things. I have a proposal for you ... two." He hadn't missed the use of the plural, and his gaze included Ginny as well. "Are you interested?"

Draco exchanged a glance with her.

"We should know more about your plans before committing ourselves," he said reasonably. "You saw what happened. I vowed to defend the true principles of our House, actually of the Four, and to fight the Dark Lord, and any successors."

"And I vowed to be at his side," added Ginny.

The portly man moved his hand in a reassuring gesture.

"That should not conflict with my offer. Whatever some may think of the Old Families," said the older man. "We did not all welcome the Dark Lord, and those who took his side have paid the price of their folly." Draco grimaced slightly at that.

"We believe that the more powerful in our community must unite to prevent the return of any Dark Lord," added Trevor. "This actually transcends the Houses."

Draco and Ginny touched briefly and communicated.

_I don't see any problem in working with them. Do You?_

_No... I don't see anything but... I'm not sure either._

_We need to give him an answer._

_In that case, I'll trust your judgment._

Draco spoke up.

"All right. We're interested. What's the next step? As someone remarked, we're still students."

Shrummer had been observing closely, and he had noted the touching and some involuntary movement during the slight pause before the boy's answer.

"What did you plan on doing after graduation?" asked Trevor. "Did you consider working in the Ministry?"

"Yes," replied Draco cautiously.

Trevor smiled.

"I'll need an assistant, and you would do fine. Before that, you can help indirectly, and make the most of your remaining time at Hogwarts to identify other prospects." Draco nodded.

"You'll be preparing for changes in the meanwhile, won't you?" asked Ginny. "Unless Fudge is with you."

They laughed at the idea.

"No, Fudge is not with us, although he might want to change sides once the going gets rough," said Lord Shrummer in a hard voice "The man has no principles. We can't trust him."

Draco nodded approvingly. Going with Fudge would have been a bad compromise. He was glad that such a decision was not being considered.

"We will get rid of him and his minions," added Trevor. "The ministry needs to have a new broom put to it."

"Percy's not really one of his minions," said Ginny carefully. "I know he was in the past, but he stood up for us when Fudge took away our defenses."

The older man considered this and turned toward Trevor. The girl spoke up for her blood, and that was never something to take lightly.

"What do you think of him, Trevor?" The younger man shrugged.

"A smart lad, and a hard worker, but he still believe politics is like studying for exams. He's also one to go by the book."

Lord Shrummer turned toward Ginny and held her gaze.

"Is he a man of principles?"

Ginny thought for a moment. She wasn't really sure that Percy valued principles over rules. At least she believed he was honest.

"He has principles yes, but I think that the question you're really asking is whether, if he joined, he would stand by us in a crunch?"

Lord Shrummer smiled at the nuance.

"That's what I mean all right." He chuckled then became serious. "We'll be doing things above board. I plan to announce our intentions, and that we have your support, at the next Wizengamot meeting. At that time, the battle lines will be drawn, and he will be free to make his decision. Should he want to join us, then _both of you_ will have to convince me of his sincerity. If you can't, then it will be too bad. That would also go for your father and any other persons that would recommend."

Ginny looked as if she'd just eaten a bad lemon.

"Will you let them stay neutral?" she asked finally.

"Yes, but in that case they won't be making any decisions."

"That sounds a little ... rough," said Draco carefully. _If not to say, like a dictatorship._

The two men looked unhappy but determined. Lord Shrummer took them even further aside from the rest of the company.

"I know what you're thinking, and in a sense it's a good thing that we're having this conversation now, at the beginning." He was very serious. "First of all, I do not want absolute power, if only because it wouldn't work. My intention is to put in place a stable system, under which any potential Dark Lord can be identified and neutralized before it is too late." He looked at them very earnestly. "This, and only this, is my true objective. Unfortunately, it requires a number of changes in our laws, and that cannot be done without gaining control of the Ministry."

"It will not mean _breaking_ any laws," said Trevor, "But we know that some people are going to resist this, and we can't let them."

"What kind of laws would you pass?" asked Ginny.

"We don't have the time to discuss this in detail," he answered, "but our society allows too much freedom in the use of dangerous powers. Consider this simple fact: any wizard of age can study and use any kind of magic, except the _Unforgivables_."

Draco nodded slowly at that. It called out to his own ideas about how the Dark Arts should be taught.

"Likewise the failings of the Ministry in the last crisis," added Trevor. That remark evoked a response from Ginny who was not ready to forgive the way they had treated Harry.

The two young people looked at each other. Ginny would follow him and he was willing, eager even, to go on with this. He turned back toward Lord Shrummer.

"We're on," he said simply.

The older man smiled and raised his glass. The others did the same. Draco felt the thrill of having made an important decision. Something, he was sure, which would play a big part in his future.

Mrs. Parkinson arrived to pull them back toward the rest of the guests, gently chiding them for not joining the others. The remainder of the evening was much less serious. Music was playing and some couples started to dance. Draco even invited Pansy and Trevor expertly led Ginny in several waltzes. It was certainly pleasant but the thought of what was coming was still in their heads and it showed. Severus looked at his young charges and wondered briefly what it was. He decided it was none of his business, and returned to his discussion with professor Boocrat.


	14. Chapter 13 Ski vacation

_Harry and Hermione on vacation. Flitz in training, and other stuff._

* * *

**_Chapter 13 - Transitions_**

_France,_

"Take the next exit," said Hermione, after consulting the big Michelin map and checking the address on the description flier. "It will be number 8, and then you should follow the signs for _Chantilly_"

"Right."

Jane Granger turned around toward Harry.

"This will be your first night in France, so we tried to make it a little special. It's really the kind of place that you can only find here."

Harry had to smile at that. The Grangers loved France and always spent their winter vacations there. They traveled a lot around the world, but this was the country to which they returned the most.

"I found out about it last year," added Marc Granger enthusiastically. "The BDA organized a three day seminar there, and it was fantastic."

"Especially the food and wine, I suppose," teased Hermione.

"Well of course, but the whole atmosphere is magic." He chuckled. "Our kind of magic."

"Very romantic too," added Jane, winking at her daughter. "There's a big park that's ideal for promenade."

"Of course it's a bit chilly at this time. You'll need to find a way to stay warm," said her father, deadpan.

Hermione stuck out her tongue at her parents. Harry laughed. He found the Grangers to be a cheerful epicurean couple, quite different from Hermione in personality. Maybe she had grown up in reaction to their attitude, although they displayed as much energy in their respective ways. In any case, he felt very much at ease with them. Hermione's reaction to the perpetual taunting of her father was a look of quiet indignation, but it gave him an excuse to hug her affectionately.

They'd taken a hovercraft to Calais, recovered the car and started down the French highway system, following the A1 southward. The trip could have been made in one lap, but it would have been a long one.

"Not a good idea to start tired when you're skiing. It's the best way to break something."

Actually, he understood that they didn't need much of an excuse to show off their knowledge of the country's hospitality and cooking. They exited the highway, paid the toll and followed Hermione's precise directions along the little country roads. With characteristic French emphasis, the hotel was listed as a castle, _Château de la Tour_, but it was actually a small double manor in the _Picardie_ country style, not at all a medieval citadel like Hogwarts. After Marc parked the BMW, everybody was glad to stretch their legs. As they collected their luggage, Harry began to wonder about room arrangements. He hoped they wouldn't get too stuffy about he and Hermione sharing one, but still, it was a delicate subject to bring up. She was apparently thinking along the same lines because she walked up to her father to talk to him privately.

"Er, Dad."

"Yes?" He stopped to look critically at the menu displayed just outside the hotel door.

"This looks like an expensive place."

"Well yes, but I wouldn't want Harry to get the idea that we're stinkers. Nothing but the best."

"Sure but, I mean... Er, I hope you don't think we need separate, er ... bedrooms?"

He looked at her and frowned.

"What? Oh no. I'm afraid sharing the same bedroom is out of the question."

She couldn't help blushing, but she frowned back as well.

"Dad! Please, it's stupid really."

Jane and Harry caught up with them.

"What is it dear?"

"The girl proposed a single room. I said no." Harry's eyes went wide in shock. Hermione looked ready to blow her top, if only for the tactless way her father was handling it.

"Do you really think so, dear?" asked Jane in a kind voice.

"Absolutely, love. There's no way I'm going to share the same room as another couple. I mean, I know it would be cheaper, but we can perfectly afford two double rooms."

"Dad!" almost screamed Hermione in exasperation. "You're impossible!" She didn't know whether to be furious or thankful. Once again she'd been baited and trapped. "It's unfair. You knew I would fall for that."

Marc showed the wide smile of the successful prankster.

"Of course I did. You know all my other tricks, and I'm glad that Harry's among us if only for giving me new occasions."

"You're quite welcome sir," added Harry, not missing the beat. He got a cheerful wink of complicity from the other man. These people were the funniest adults he'd ever seen. It was one more reasons he was so happy to be in love with their girl.

They went inside, and of course the Grangers had reserved two rooms from the start. They got their keys and took the stairs up. Both bedrooms were the same, furnished in what the French called _rustique_ furniture. Rough wood but with the beautiful patina that came of decades, or centuries, of waxing and use.

"Let's meet downstairs in half an hour," proposed Marc.

Harry and Hermione entered their room and closed the door. They shared a look, grinned and went into each other's arms.

"You know, this makes it almost official," he said. "Your folks are really great."

"Yes they are, and I'm glad that you get along so well together."

He held her close and looked at the bed.

"What can we do in half an hour?" he whispered in her ear.

"You can do what you want, but I'm getting dressed up for dinner." She gave him a quick kiss and pushed him away. "And I want a shower first."

He hadn't been really hoping, and besides they would have time later.

"Can I wash your hair?"

- - -

Some time later, Marc and Jane were waiting for the youngsters in the lobby sofa. He took his wife's hand and kissed it.

"That face she made was priceless. If only I could have taken a picture of it."

"You were cruel. You should remember what it was like when _we_ were going out in the beginning."

"No different from now. I still love you as much as then," he said, looking at her with a tender smile.

She smiled and snuggled closer.

"Hmm. They make such a nice couple."

"Weren't we afraid she'd bring back some dour spectacled bookworm?"

"Actually, he has glasses."

"That's not the part I was afraid of."

"I know what you mean."

Harry and Hermione came down. He wasn't dressed in anything fancy, but Hermione had put on a long creamy colored robe. They were escorted to their table, where dinner was served in the finest Gallic tradition. They started with a glass of Champagne and some pastry tidbits while the waiters presented them with large menu folders, and an even larger wine list. Harry let them chose for him as he could only understand a fraction of what was written, even in the english translations.

"Don't worry. It's part of the game to use fancy descriptions."

They all started with _Foie gras de canard_ served with _brioche toastée_, dices of _gelée au porto_ and _figues confites._ This with a half bottle of Montbazillac, a sweet white wine. For the main dish he followed Marc's suggestion of _Pièce de boeuf sauce landaise_ while Hermione took a _Soufflée au Morilles_ and Jane a _Carré d'agneau_. Marc spent several minutes humming into the wine list and finally choose a vintage Saint Emilion to go with it.

Their plates arrived, and they proceeded to eat. The wine was good. Harry knew that it was probably excellent, judging from the hums and ahs coming from the others, but he wasn't really used to the taste, and so his appreciation was limited. He was only half surprised to see that Hermione seemed quite knowledgeable and familiar with the subject.

"Just as well we're not driving."

"Indeed. This is why we always pick hotels with a good restaurant."

Dessert was something beautiful, _Millefeuilles aux framboises_, made of thin sheets of pastry with raspberries and cream under a delicate domed cage of webbed caramel. The rest of the plate was decorated with small slices of fruits.

"This is the finest meal I have ever eaten, sir. It was just fabulous."

"Glad you like it Harry. It really a pleasure to have you with us. I understand that your foster parents didn't treat you very well." He exchanged a quick glance with his wife. "We'll do our best to make up for it."

Harry was touched. He reflected briefly about how it would have been, living with a family like that. He pushed the thought away. That part of his life didn't merit any attention.

He looked at Hermione.

"Nothing important happened with those people. I'm not even sure that they ever existed."

_End of flashback,_

- - -

_Forbidden Forest, Centaurs' camp, late morning,_

Flitz was just finishing his first meal of the day, when he heard Lyman approach. He quickly swallowed the chunk of gruel in his mouth and brushed the last leaves still clinging to his mane.

"Blessings to you, Herd Mentor," he enunciated as best as he could.

He still had difficulties with spoken words, but that phrase was the most important one to get right. After all, he used it every day. Since coming back from the Ritual, the pace of his training had accelerated brutally. One good thing with his new situation was the awe he could see in his former foal friends' eyes, even the ones who had shunned him before. The other adult Centaurs were friendlier as well, but they still looked at him strangely, and he didn't fully understand why.

"Blessings to you, Flitz," replied the old Centaur. He was carrying several tools and a number of wooden sticks. Flitz looked at them with undisguised interest. This could mean only one thing.

"Today you will make your first bow, young one. I have chosen three branches of fine chestnut wood. Let us hope you will not need more."

The previous days, they had discussed the theory of bow making and stringing. Flitz had even been allowed the use of a small knife to practice cutting and carving various types of wood. He had listened with care, quick to understand the basic principles. Centaurs had been using such tools since the beginning of time, and the knowledge was almost inborn, at least for those who had the right instincts. His first attempt would be a simple project, but it would still be an important part of growing up.

The Herd Mentor watched him scrutinize the wood, and test the flexibility and the strength of each rod. It was a test of course, as most things were for him these days, but the old teacher was confident of the outcome. If truth should be told, he was proud of this pupil. The youth was willing and even desperate to please. More important, he had real talent as well. There was no doubt of that.

Flitz finally selected one stick and proceeded to work out the irregularities, using the knife and a rasp. It would take him most of the day to do a proper job, and that only because they would forgo the complex procedure for soaking and drying the wood. Those intricacies would come later, and they were not necessary at his current level.

"I leave you now, and I will see you in the evening," said Lyman after a while. The lad would not need help, and he had other things to do, but he was looking forward to seeing the finish product.

- - -

_France,_

One afternoon, as they were coming back to chalet, an owl was waiting from them on the window ledge.

"Hedwig! Hello there girl," said Harry, taking the bird on his glove. He fished out a chocolate bar from his suit and gave her a bite, after recovering the letter she was holding. They went inside.

"Is it from Grimauld?"

"Yes." He scanned the letter quickly. "Everything's fine. They're coaching the kids in Quidditch. Ron says that Alicia and Richard should try out for the House teams next year."

"Well, one for us and one for Slytherin. What else?"

"There's a note from Helen, thanking us for taking the kids. I think this part is for you. Something about experiments in potions." He handed her a sheet. Hermione read silently for a moment.

"It's about what she's been doing with professor Snape. She really seems to want to follow up on that." She continued reading, and a slight frown crossed her brow.

"Who's Helen?" asked Jane.

"She's the mother of two kids who are in first year," answered Harry. "They're friends with Draco's sister, and they've been staying with us for part of the vacation." He turned toward Hermione. "What else is she saying?"

"Nothing much. Just that she would be glad to see us again," she replied, folding back the letter. He sensed some reticence and didn't press it at the time. "I think that we should use Hedwig to send back a letter asking Ginny and Ron to pack our things for Hogwarts. That way, we could stay an extra day here and just meet them back at King's Cross.

"Now that's what I call a brilliant idea," said Marc.

Later when they were alone, Harry asked her about the letter, and why she had cut off the subject.

"Nothing really. It's just something I don't want to discuss with Mom and Dad."

He looked back with an interrogative expression. She sighed and gave him the page she'd read. There was nothing remarkable until the last paragraph.

_I'd like to ask you one last thing, Hermione, but please tell me frankly if you don't think it's a good idea. I understand that both your parents are Muggles like me. Would they be interested in joining me in a kind of parents' association? Its only purpose would be to simplify our relations with the Ministry and Hogwarts, and for example, to make it easier to keep in touch with our children. I haven't contacted anyone yet and I will wait for your feedback on this._

_Wishing you the best - Helen_

He looked up.

"That doesn't sound too bad."

She grimaced.

"Actually, I think it's a very good idea, and I get the feeling that she's really keen on this."

She balanced her head left and right, clearly bothered by something else.

"Then what's the problem?"

"Well, you've seen my parents. They don't really want to take a more direct role in that part of our lives."

He frowned, not understanding. It was true that Marc and Jane didn't talk a lot about the wizard world, but they were completely at ease with Hermione and him.

"They spent a good part of the summer with the Krums last year. I got the impression that it worked out well."

"Yes and no. They got along fine on most subjects, but they were frustrated whenever magic came up." She tried to explain it, lest he got the wrong idea. "They're not at all like the Dursleys who hate it. But there is a lot that they find irrational, and it bothers them."

"So they'd rather stay out of it?" he asked carefully.

"Yes. I think so."

He looked at the letter again. He remembered how enthusiastic Helen had been at Grimauld.

"While she wants in as much as possible."

"She was married to a Wizard, so I guess it's different for her."

Hermione had been thinking about Helen's proposition, and her own ideas for their association. Bringing in motivated adults could be just the spark they needed. These peoples would be freer to act than students were, and the Ministry would probably take them more seriously. She explained some of this to Harry.

"Hum," he said, thinking about what Dumbledore had told them. He wasn't sure that the Headmaster would exactly approve such an initiative, but on the other hand he didn't see what harm it could do, and anyway, they weren't going to ask for permission for every little thing they wanted to do. He looked at her. She was evidently thinking ahead on how it could advance her pet project.

_Our pet project,_ he corrected.

"Here's what we can do," he replied. "Write back and ask her to meet us back at the train station. We'll be in early anyway, so we could discuss this in detail. If we all agree, then we can go ahead in this."

"Okay."

- - -

_Centaurs' camp,_

When Lyman returned, Flitz had finished his bow. The older Centaur took it and checked the quality of the work. It was good, remarkable for a first try even. He remembered that Firenze had been gifted in this art as well. The instincts evidently ran true in his blood.

"I see that you have reinforced the extremities with leather straps. I did not teach you to do that."

"I saw it ... done on other bows, Herd Mentor," articulated Flitz. "I felt it was better. The wood is ... springy but dry. I feared it would break."

Lyman nodded a silent approval. The youth had taken the longer of the three rods, one he had selected because of that very weakness, and he had corrected its only flaw. The resulting weapon would be much better than needed for a trainee.

"Where did you get the material?"

"I asked the mares." He gestured toward the center of the camp, where the female Centaurs were going about their business.

Lyman snorted. He had already noticed that the youth was very popular over there. A lot of them had opposed Firenze's banishment. He handed him a length of braided gut string.

"String it now."

Flitz tested the strength of the string and tied the first knot. He fixed it on one end and measured the proper length for the bow's tension under the Herd Mentor's approving stare. He then bent the rod, affixed the second knot and checked his work. He didn't have any arrows so that was all he could do, but the bow's feel was proper, as was the sound of the cord's vibration when released. He presented the completed weapon to the Herd mentor.

Lyman checked it carefully and ran his hand along the wood and string. He tensed it several times and, to Flitz's chagrin, made a minor adjustment to one of the knots. It wasn't really necessary, but it wouldn't do to have the youth become too confident.

He took an arrow from his quiver, nocked it and took aim at a distant tree. Flitz held his breath, anxious as he saw the wood flex dramatically under the strong pull of the teacher. If anything broke now, it would be terribly humiliating. Lyman held the tension, carefully sensing the bow's reaction to the stress. There was no excessive cracking sounds, nor any other telltale signs of weakness. He released the arrow which flew straight across the clearing and into the tree bark.

_Not bad. _

Actually it was excellent. The bow would be on the light side, but a real weapon nonetheless. He marched toward the reserve storage hut, selected a small quiver with a dozen arrows, and gave it to the youth, along with his finished work.

"Good work. You have earned the right to carry this with you from now on."

Flitz beamed with pride and pleasure. He strapped the quiver and then the bow across his back, feeling like a real Centaur. Wearing this symbol of maturity would make him that much closer to adulthood.

"You can go and eat now." The young Centaur thanked him and trotted quickly away.

The Herd Mentor watched him go away, proudly displaying his new possession to any who would look. A smile of affection came to his face. He sensed another presence, and his smile deepened. Bane had looked flustered when he'd learned that a Pure One had been present at the Ritual. Others among the Herd had been surprised and embarrassed as well. It was a sign that Flitz was favored by the fates, and therefore that his isolation had been a mistake. The unexpected development got them thinking and that was a good thing.

"Blessings to you, Lyman."

"Blessings to you, Bane."

"How is he doing?" asked the Herd Master gruffly, nodding toward where Flitz had gone.

"I am pleased," replied the old Centaur simply.

Bane grunted. He had been trained by this Herd Mentor, and he had seen countless other Centaurs pass through his harsh schooling. He had not heard these words spoken very often. Lyman was a difficult enough teacher to satisfy, let alone to please.

The two stood silently together in the clearing. The first stars were starting to show and, like every Centaur did at least once every night, they looked up and searched the heavens for Signs. Not everyone saw the same thing, and often there was nothing special to observe, but tonight the Patriarch star was unusually bright, and several other clues pointed toward a vague menace.

"Trouble looms, and he will ask about Firenze," said Lyman, indirectly asking Bane for the new official position of the Herd.

Bane was torn between his lingering anger toward the traitor, and his strong sense of duty toward the Herd. Others would see the Signs and wonder. The Herd had been divided on that issue, and his decision to banish Firenze had brought it to within a fraction of a permanent rift. They would ask for his ruling again, and if he wasn't convincing enough, then that could happen anyway.

The unity of the Herd was paramount, and he didn't know what to do. He turned toward the Herd Mentor.

"You will advise me, and then I will decide."

After saying these words, he looked pointedly at Lyman and went away. The old Centaur hid his amusement at the admission of doubt, wrapped up in the delegation of finding a solution. Bane was a good traditional leader, unwavering when he felt a decision was needed, but he was smart enough to understand when he couldn't force an issue. Lyman knew that he had the authorization to explain the situation to Firenze's son, and in practice influence the fate of both Centaurs. It was an important responsibility, but it didn't bother him. It was much easier for him than for Bane who would have to take the actual decision.

_But that's what leaders are for._

Some times later, Flitz came back from eating, the bow still proudly strapped on his back. He approached the older Centaur diffidently.

"I am ready master," he said, hoping that they would start actual archery training.

"We have spent enough time on one subject," said Lyman, dashing his hopes. "Tonight we will review the medicine plants."


	15. Chapter 14 Preparations

_The Christmas vacation is almost over and the Brotherhood is finally ready for some direct action. Their plan is complex and this is the first part._

* * *

**_Chapter 14 - Preparations_**

_Forbidden Forest, _

The Scholar and his two companions materialized next to an abandoned house, at the foot of a small hill. This was as close to the old castle as they could Apparate with confidence. The wards were a far cry from what they once were, but the degradation of time had also made them unpredictable. They couldn't see anything from their present location, but he knew that their goal was just on the other side of the hill.

Electra and the old witch looked around with curiosity. Few humans had been there in the last thousand years. Access to the Castle was forbidden by a decree drafted by the most powerful wizards of the time, and ratified by the Wizard's Council. The treaty itself was secret, but the Scholar had been studying references to it carefully for days. It had taken all his ingenuity to find a loophole in it.

"In exchange for the Hogwarts and Hogsmeade grounds, this land was ceded exclusively to the Centaurs and their dependents," he said, in his precise lecturing voice. "That last provision was certainly meant to refer to the Unicorns, and to several other species linked to them. It was deliberately left vague so that they didn't have to disclose their secrets in such a document. Today, we will use this to our advantage."

"How so?" asked Sylvia Dragonis. "I hope you do not expect us to establish relations with these _animals_."

"Aye, we will present ourselves as their dependents, but they will not know of it." He chuckled at his own joke.

She looked at him in distaste. _It would not surprise me if the pedantic blabbermouth had chosen the solution which will most annoy me. _

Her experience with teachers and schools had never been a happy one. In her youth, her family had been rich enough to afford private tutoring. Pliant servants were paid to convey what knowledge she wished to learn, and they did not presume to educate her in other ways. Unfortunately, her father had thought himself a businessman. After one too many risky financial ventures, a time had come when the tutors had become too expensive. Because of this, she had spent the last three years of her schooling at Hogwarts, ignominiously mixed with the common students. _Thanks Merlin I was sorted into Slytherin._ Despite that, she had hated the place from her first to her last day.

"All right. What should we do?" asked Electra impatiently. She had no qualms about anything which would help further her plan. She would have washed the floor of a Centaur's dwelling to get her chance at defeating Dumbledore.

"We cannot pass for Unicorns," replied the Scholar, "but the Centaurs must consume several types of plants to satisfy their specific metabolism. One of these is the Errant Ivy. As you may know this vegetal is mobile. It looks somewhat likes _Atriplex Canescens_, which is often seen tumbling along, pushed by the wind in arid regions. One particular difference is the presence of long trailing vines ..."

"Professor!" interrupted Electra. "We don't have time for a botany lesson."

"Well, perhaps," he admitted with a shrug. "Although in my opinion, one never knows too much."

He produced three vials of potions from the bag he had been carrying.

"This will transform us into Errant Ivy, and the breeze will push us into the castle ground. We should retain sufficient control for minimal directions."_ A simple and brilliant idea, if I do say so myself._

"What's to keep any roving Centaur to pluck us for dinner?" asked Electra.

"They only eat the young shoots," he replied deadpan. Both women threw him a scathing look, which he ignored.

"We only require the transformation to get through the wards," he continued. "Once inside we will be able to return to human form. If need be, we can change back at will for several hours."

"Are you sure this _trick _will work?" asked the older witch with as much scorn as she could muster.

The Scholar looked back at her. There was no love lost, and little respect, between them. They had both been working for the Brotherhood for decades, but it was really best when they could do so separately. Today, that was not possible.

"Shall I explain these things in detail, Sylvia?" The menace was implicit. She would get a full lecture, and the humiliation of having her nose rubbed in her inevitable ignorance. She did not reply and turned away from him.

"We will walk up to where the slope and the dominant wind will carry us into the ruins," he said, climbing up the hill with Electra on his heels.

The older witch waited a moment to calm her seething anger before following them. They walked for several minutes. Once on the summit, they saw the broken walls and uneven shape of the remains of one of the most legendary citadel in human history. They forgot their petty quarrel as they looked upon what had been the Brotherhood's objective for so many centuries.

"Behold Camelot," said the Scholar.

Electra surveyed the grounds before them. This was arguably the most important magical location in Britain. It had been the center of Merlin and Arthur's power during the days of the Ambrosius, when the sorcerer and the king had ruled the country. After Merlin had passed away, or at least disappeared in mysterious circumstances, a long time of trouble and darkness had descended upon the magical world. Much knowledge had been lost, and even sealed off, since it appeared that the Great Wizard himself had deliberately inhibited the use of the Power Circle, presumably to prevent others from abusing it.

In the ensuing centuries of chaos, fractions and conflicts had thrown wizards and Centaurs against each other. The land around them, once known as the fair Forest of Arden, had become the Forbidden Forest. A place of danger and mysterious activities. A handful of wizards, loyal to the memory of Merlin, had kept the castle isolated. During that time, the Centaurs had been using the second Circle, in the actual emplacement of Hogwarts, which few humans knew about.

The Brotherhood had been almost completely destroyed by Merlin itself. The great mage had slayed all seven of the Council's members, and it had taken decades to rebuild the organization, and even more to rediscover the secret of the Circles. Even now, the knowledge was mainly theorical. The only thing that they were sure of was that they commanded a tremendous magical power, and that there were two of them in England. One here, and another one at Hogwarts.

The scholar observed the ruins with fascination. He had spent a significant part of his life researching them; collecting and analyzing every scrap of knowledge he could lay his hands on. He knew more than anyone else, and he had never been so close to this goal.

The two witches looked on with as much fervor, but their primary motivations were all different. Electra saw the mean to accomplish her revenge, the Scholar hoped for priceless knowledge and Sylvia hoped for the restoration of her lost heritage. The Brotherhood used all these ambitions to further its own agenda: attain a position of prestige and influence which would never wane.

The Scholar took a draught of the potion he had prepared, and immediately doubled up in a cry of pain as a seizure took him. He fell on the ground, moaning as he slowly transformed into a ball of packed weed. When it was over, a gust of wind blew him down the hill toward the ruins. Electra and Sylvia exchanged a resigned look and drank the content of their vials as well. Soon, three normal looking tumbleweeds were rolling over the grass across the plain, rebounding on stones and otherwise making their way toward the remains of a battlement wall. There was a brief flash of golden light as they passed the barrier, but the wind was strong enough to push them into the main courtyard of the castle.

Electra changed back to her human form and stumbled away, retching. The world was still rotating dizzily around her. That particular transformation had been one of the worst. First, the actual change was very unpleasant, as were most between plants and animals. After that, being blown away in the wind was extremely disorientating, even as a vegetable. Finally, passing through the wards had been excruciatingly painful, as her innermost self was challenged by the protection magic. She saw from the faces of her companions that they were as distressed as she was.

_This had better be worth the trouble._

The stakes were very high. The Founders had initially wanted to build their school on the remains of Camelot, but Merlin's spells were still too strong, and they actually inhibited human magic. After learning of the other Circle, they had proposed a contract to the Centaurs. Freedom to go and do as they wanted in the Forest, and the exclusive use of this place, in exchange for a significant area around the second, unblocked, Circle. After a great deal of haggling, and to put an end to a wasteful war, it had finally been accepted. Merlin's actions did not limit the Centaurs from using Camelot for their own ends, and the result had been in everyone's interest.

The exchange was sealed with complex magic, protected against abuse by both party, and dependent on several conditions. In particular, the Centaurs would regain access to Hogwarts if their Circle lost its power. This had been a major concession which had resulted in a number of clauses whereby the Human wizards could recover their previous property. Paramount among them had been the extinction of the Centaurs.

"Damn you, Alan!" spat Sylvia, wiping her mouth after losing the content of her stomach. "Couldn't you find an easier way in?"

Professor Alan Boocrat was in no better shape. He was still trying to recover from the ordeal. His age hadn't helped. Every one of his articulations was on fire, and his heart was beating like a caged demon. He breathed deeply before answering.

"I could not ... and time was ... of the essence," he said finally. "We barely made it ... through the wards as it was." Fumbling in his bag, he took out a gourd and drank from it. "If we succeed, then future access should be easier."

He tried to stand up gingerly. His head was still ringing like a gong, but it would be all right. He passed the gourd to Electra who took a draught, before passing it to Dragonis.

Already the wards had been greatly damaged by the simple fact of them being inside the grounds. Protection magic was highly symbolic, and so the success of a charm reinforced it, and its failure weakened it. What they were planning to do would decrease the defenses even more. They took some more time to recuperate, and then the Scholar turned toward Sylvia expectantly.

"How does it feel to return to your ancestral home?"

She stared back defiantly, and a roll of thunder was heard in the distance. Sylvia Dragonis was a long removed descendant of the Pendragon line shared by Arthur, the same king who had built this place. Her presence would play a central part in the first of a series of desecration rituals.

They moved to one of the few remaining enclosed space, a large room with the remains of an enormous ring shaped table, now broken and covered in wines and moss. Only stone remained of what had been here. Armors and swords had lined the walls once, but they had long since rusted away. Several statues were still standing, in various state of disrepair. One of these was in remarkable good shape and showed a sinister looking gargoyle.

Using their hands, because magic was still restricted for the time being, they cleared an area in the center of the room. The floor had been fine white marble in Arthur's days, but it was now a coarse and dirty surface. When they were done, the Scholar produced a bottle, some writing brushes and two cups. He poured a dark liquid into the cups and gave one to Electra. Sylvia stood upright in the center of the cleared space. She closed her eyes and spoke at length in a monotone voice. It was a recounting of her family's history, mixed with reference to their service to the Brotherhood. Using the brushes and the dark liquid, Electra and the Scholar began to draw runes on the floor around her, each turning clockwise in opposition to one another, and murmuring their own incantations, privately praying that the Claiming rite would be effective.

It was. A soft green light permeated the room, illuminating the old witch's face which had now taken on a regal expression. A sure sign that the place recognized a rightful owner. The Brotherhood had long known of this particular flaw in the Camelot wards. For this reason, they had always sought to retain the loyalty of as many Pendragon descendants as possible, and if truth needed to be told, there was no other rationale for putting up with the like of Sylvia Dragonis.

When the ceremony was finished, they knew that they had succeeded. It would not be sufficient in itself for laying claim to the entire area, which would entail voiding the Centaur contract, but it was a necessary and important first step. At the very least they could now move around the castle, and pass through the wards freely.

They looked at each other with pride. Their accomplishment temporarily overriding any personal animosity they might hold against each other.

"This is only the beginning," warned Alan. "And it will not last unless we consolidate."

He was right. Every time the Centaurs used the Circle, it would reverse their action, and the wards would be strengthened. He didn't know what these creatures actually did; only that it wasn't important to the Brotherhood.

They would not be able to access the Circle yet. Part of its protection was the equivalent of a _Fidelus_ charm, and so it would be invisible to them. They could wander among the ruins for years, they would never find it. Electra had a plan to solve that. A complex and precise machination which would tax her talents to their limits, as well as using most of the resources of the Brotherhood. It would not be easy, but their motivation was total.

"We know all this," answered Sylvia with indifference. She moved along the wall and stopped in front of the gargoyle-like statue. "Why do you have to be so reasonable in this moment of glory?"

She admired the status. It was probably one of the oldest golem sentinels still operational. She smiled and took out her wand.

"_Activatum!_"

The statue's color changed suddenly from the off white of weathered stone to the hard grey of fresh granite. Its eyes opened and darted menacingly around the room.

"A proper house needs a watch dog," she said primly.

The Scholar looked at her with anger. The inconsequence of the old hag grated him more every day. Thankfully, she only had a minor role to play.

"That was not childish and unnecessary," he said disdainfully. For a moment, he fantasized about putting a permanent mute charm on her. Unfortunately, she was the only one who could speak certain incantations.

"We have done enough," snapped Electra who had no patience for their bickering. "Can we leave directly?"

Alan was still staring at Sylvia. The stupid game with the Sentinel was of no consequence. He almost regretted it, since it would have offered an opportunity to put her in her place. He sighed. _The stupid cow doesn't even know that precise instructions must be given right after activation._ He made an effort to get her out of his mind.

"I would not try Apparating from here," he finally replied. "But we should be able to walk out without further trouble."

They left the room to return to the house on the river side. Once alone the golem sentinel began to move, turning this way and that, as if getting re acquainted with his environment. After a moment, it jumped to the floor and scurried jerkily out of the room.

- - -

_Ministry of Magic, late afternoon,_

Cornelius Fudge stepped out of his office in the Ministry of Magic.

"Oh Marge, if you please?" he said, passing in front of his secretary.

"Minister?"

"Would you be so kind as to notify young Weasley, that I will need the update on the trading report for tomorrow morning, for my meeting with that new Commissioner Galdi-what's-isname."

"Ernesto Galdomari sir. Very well, I'll tell him."

She didn't remark on the fact that it would certainly take Percy most of the evening to do a proper job of it, while the Minister had evidently finished his day, and it wasn't even five o'clock. In Marge Pennywrinkle's universe, hierarchy was everything and no one, not even her, would dare question her superior's coming and goings. Junior underlings however, were something else. Hard work was the least which was expected of them.

Fudge nodded curtly and bid her a good evening. He walked back toward the atrium and wondered if he would go home directly or not. It was still a bit early, and the prospect of a prolonged evening with Mrs. Fudge didn't really thrill him. He loved the woman of course, and she was a great cook, but then again... _I'll just have a quiet drink at the Warlock's Club. Just a little one._

- - -

Percy received the news silently. Like others before him he had learned to keep the tightest control on his expression when dealing with the Minister's fiercely loyal private secretary. Even an innocent smile would be construed as an impropriety. Inwardly however, he was seething.

_I can't stand it! He's always doing something like that._

The cumulative events of the last weeks had completely eroded what little respect he still had for the Minister. Maybe it was in reaction to his previous adoration, but he now positively loathed the man. Every day of work was an ordeal, and the days were long. He didn't even have enough free time to make up for it with Penelope. She had accepted the long hours in the beginning, when he was still able to convince her that it was a needed sacrifice to insure a brilliant future. It wasn't possible anymore when he came home despondent. She had started telling him that if the job wasn't even fulfilling, then why did he still bother with it? He would be better of working for some private company.

Percy sighed and stood up to retrieve the heavy folder with the report to review. He came back to his desk and started reading, but his thoughts came back to his girlfriend. The last time, they'd had a bitter argument about it. Now, Penelope was away with her parents for the holidays, and he was alone. Well not exactly. At least he had made up with his family, and that was something.

_Why don't I give dad a call?_

He pondered the question for a moment, but he had too much work for that. He turned the next page and started to read. It was a list of foreign magical products authorized for import, with the corresponding taxes. There had been countless negotiations and modifications. He would have to consult the annexes for the details and ... Percy suddenly closed the folder. He couldn't stand it.

_It's not such a bad idea after all._

Leaving his office, he took the elevator to the appropriate floor. As he was walking along the corridor, he heard Arthur discussing with someone. The door to his cubicle was open. He peered in, and was shocked as always at the smallness of if.

_This is an outrage. He's a department head, and even my office is bigger than this._

"Hi Dad, am I interrupting something?" His father and his visitor turned toward him. It was Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Hello, Percy, not at all. Please come in." Arthur made an ineffective effort to make some room. "Well, if you can."

"Hi, Percy," said the Auror, offering his hand. "Forgive me for saying so, but you look as if your pet dog had died. Any trouble?"

Percy grimaced and explained the last minute assignment. Both men commiserated with him.

"The man never changes, doesn't he?" said Kingsley. "But frankly I'm surprised at you. I'd have thought that you'd be used to it by now."

The young man forced a smile and silently shook his head. Arthur looked at him with a concerned expression.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. Percy shrugged. He shot a quick glance at Kingsley, plainly reticent to open up in front of the big man.

"Don't mind me," he said. "I've heard it all before, and from too many to keep track of." He chuckled. "No matter, I'll leave you too together." He gave them a friendly wave and left.

Arthur considered his son with attention. He stood up.

"Come on, Percy. I'll buy you a drink and we'll have a talk."

"I don't have time! I've still got to-" Arthur shook his head.

"We'll come back later and we'll do it together. I don't have anything urgent right now, and I really think that you need a change of surroundings."

They left the office to Apparate next to the little pub which was a favorite spot for the low ranking Ministry officials. Despite his high status, Arthur often went there because he preferred the friendly atmosphere to that of the classier resorts. The drinks were also a lot cheaper.

They found a quiet place to sit down and, after the waiter had brought them two large ales, Percy recounted in a rush everything that he'd kept inside him.

"It's not just the work load, or even Fudge's lack of respect," he finished. "It's that I used to think it was all for a proper cause. That it would make a difference somewhere. Now, I'm beginning to think that I'll never get anywhere in this job." He looked up at his father. "The only ones who ever do anything are the politicians or those who are outside the system, like you and the Order."

His father nodded slowly and took a sip of beer before answering.

"You and I, son, we're what are called worker bees. The queen and the leaders decide, but the bees are just there for working."

Percy looked at him and tried to read some hidden meaning in his face.

"How do you stand it?" he asked. "Why do you keep it up?" _Come on Dad. Give me a reason for staying. Merlin knows I need one._

Arthur gestured vaguely with his hand.

"I like the work, and they leave me alone." He chuckled. "I really get a kick looking at those crazy Muggle contraptions." He turned more serious. "And there was another reason for remaining inside." He gave a knowing smile.

_Sure,_ understood Percy._ He could keep an eye on things for the Order._

"Does that reason still stand?" He was curious. _Dumbledore is in a position to influence a lot of things in the Ministry, but what he is actually doing is not obvious._

Arthur balanced his head in indecision.

"I don't know for sure." He shrugged. "Possibly."

Percy pondered this. Outguessing Dumbledore or the Order, was a difficult undertaking. He gave up rapidly, since he didn't see how these motives applied to him.

"What do you think I should do?" he asked softly.

The older man pursed his lips and looked at him for what seemed like a long time.

"Do you still want to play the political game?" The younger man hesitated then nodded once. Arthur winced inwardly. _How to I tell him that he's not suited for it?_

"You're not going to succeed at it by yourself," he finally said, as gently as he could manage.

Percy flared up and showed his old stubborn expression, and then it softened as he accepted the truth behind these words, however much they grated him. He knew that he wasn't good at charming people, but he still thought that if he explained things clearly enough, others would accept his point of view and follow him.

"You mean I need to find someone to help me?" _Why not? I could find a kind of public relation specialist. Someone who will find the right words._

Arthur almost groaned. The boy still didn't get it.

"No, I mean that you need to find someone _you_ can help." he said very softly.

Percy frowned. It took him a moment to understand, and when he did, he froze. The realization was sobering._ Dad is saying that I will never be more than an assistant to another, at best a kind of éminence grise._ It was pretty much devastating for someone with his ambition.

"Worker bees," he murmured. Arthur nodded slowly.

"They can be very useful," he said, "and even admired." He took another sip of beer and found something more to say. "Remember that _you _get to choose."

"I get to choose," repeated Percy. He took a deep breath and let it out. "I get to choose whom I serve. Is that it?"

"Yep." Arthur finished his glass. "It's not as bad as you may think." He looked at his son and held his gaze.

The same thought was in their minds. Arthur had chosen to serve Dumbledore. They both knew that he could have done a lot worse. Percy realized his beer was still untouched and took a long swallow. It did him good, and some color appeared on his face. He looked away for a moment. On one side of the pub's wall there were a lot of pictures of famous people, most of whom had probably never visited this place. The owner had reserved a central space with enlarged photos of the six students who had saved the world. He smiled at Ginny and Ron. His eyes fell on another figure.

"Draco Malfoy?" he murmured.

Arthur shrugged. He'd already thought about it.

"I don't know. You should think about it carefully though, and take your time." Percy smiled wryly.

_Who else is there? Harry has Hermione for his own needs. Do they need another brain?_

"Or maybe all of them? After all, they're all going to stay together."

"Yeah," said Arthur. "If they do anything, it will all be together." _The Six Founders. That label is their most important asset._

Percy looked back at his father.

"You're right. I need to think about it. But right now I have a report to finish."

"I'll help you."

- - -

_Warlock's Club, London,_

Fudge Apparated inside the club lobby. A House Elf immediately appeared to take his coat, while another one ushered him into the main lounge.

The _Warlock's Club_ had been founded in 1878 by a wizard madly in love with all things nautical. This was of course reflected in the interior decoration. Model ships and navigation instruments were everywhere, as were paintings of seascapes and square rigged vessels. The House Elves didn't wear the usual towels, but were wrapped up in signal flags. The third, and last, floor was magically enchanted to resemble the deck of a clipper under full sail. It was even possible to eat there but few did. The level of detail was such that seasickness was a strong likelihood.

They were a number of important persons in the lounge. He spotted several members of the Wizengamot, including Lord Shrummer, and some wizards from the Ministry. Ludo Bagman and that young chap who handled relations with the High Court.

"Ah, Minister!" he called out. "Please come on over and join us."

Fudge sighed inwardly. He would have dearly liked a quiet time away from the stress of politics. The infighting was fierce these days, and a lot of people, previously cowed by the menace of You-knew-who, were now vying for power. He looked carefully at the rest of the company the portly wizard was entertaining. The undercurrents in the Wizengamot were complex. He couldn't help imagining that Dumbledore was maneuvering against him, even if there wasn't any outspoken sign of it. Other members, less important but numerous, weren't so discrete and every meeting was a battleground.

Shrummer had taken his defense on several occasions, and blocked a number of votes against him. For this reason, it wouldn't do to refuse him any of his time.

"Good evening, my lord, gentlemages." He smiled genially at the group, projecting as much confidence as he could.

"How about a grog Minister?" proposed Bagman.

"Thank you. Just what I need actually." He took the steaming glass and blew on the surface of the liquid.

"So, how are things going at your end? Have you got the Howler problem under control?" Shrummer asked maliciously.

"Please! I still can't see a red piece of paper without cringing," replied Fudge. He shrugged. "Actually, the worst of it is over. I think that now everybody understands that we did a good job."

The others nodded in automatic hypocrisy. In fact, the more cynical admired the man for the skill with which he had gotten himself off that particular hook. No one noticed the small hand signal from Shrummer to Trevor, but the young man took his cue smoothly.

"Then again we may be in for a new wave of unrest, if the Goblins continue to make trouble," he said.

_The Goblins are making trouble?_ wondered Fudge. He wasn't aware of anything brewing in that particular area. Bagman looked worried, like always when Goblins were mentioned.

"That's certainly true," confirmed Shrummer, nodding his head and looking concerned. "Defeating You-know-you was certainly a blessing, but the downside is that those blasted magical minorities now feel free to ask for all kinds of advantages."

"Is it that bad?" asked one of the other wizards.

"Bad and getting worse," replied Trevor with a sigh. "You know, I'm quite friendly with Cuthbert, but the man is at the end of his tether." Cuthbert Mockridge was the Head of the Goblin liaison office.

"He's getting to old to handle that kind of crisis," confirmed Shrummer. He turned toward Fudge. "In truth Minister, Cuthbert is almost ready for retirement. I think we need to put a new man in his place."

_There it is_, thought Fudge. _Favor calling time. He's going to ask me to promote one of his friends._

"Do you have anybody in mind?" he replied, playing the game as he was expected to.

"In fact I do," said the big man. "Arthur Weasley would do splendidly." A collective gasp of surprise rose from the other wizards. Fudge's grog went down the wrong way, and he exploded in coughing. He was stupefied.

"I didn't know he was one of your _protégés_," said the Minister, after recovering. He was even forgetting the unwritten etiquette which implied that, of course, all nominations were made according to objective competence, and not in exchange for political favor.

Shrummer smiled inwardly at the man's lapse, and pressed his advantage.

"He's done a very good job at Misuse of Muggle Artifacts, and I know for a fact that his son works for Gringotts, and that he is very well thought of over there." He looked at the others with the expression of a man who had just expressed a spontaneous idea, but who was growing more confident with it as he reflected on it. "Yes I think it would be a perfect response to the Goblin problem. A new man with a favorable reputation. Don't you think so, Ludo?"

"Er, Certainly my Lord," stammered the man. Trevor approved as well, and quite soon Fudge found himself trapped to agree with the group

_I'm not very keen on this, but Shrummer's obviously going to insist. Oh well, why not?_

"All right," he said. "I'll talk to him in the morning."

"An excellent decision, Minister. I can guarantee you the support of the assembly."

- - -

_Forbidden Forest, _

"Master, I have ... a question," said Flitz when the lesson was finished.

"What is it?"

Flitz looked around to make sure that no one would hear them, and then he turned an expectant face toward the old teacher.

"No other will speak of ... my father."

Lyman had been waiting for this. He gestured for the young Centaur to follow him and they trotted away to a quiet spot outside the camp. They kneeled down on the ground, and he spoke softly for a moment, explaining how Firenze had answered the plea of the wizard School's Headmaster.

The youth was uneasy. He knew what wizards were, rogue yet powerful creatures who had hunted the Centaurs from their ancient world into quasi reservations like the Forest. The Herd Mentor himself had often warned him, and his foal friends, to keep away from them.

_Why would my father follow one of them?_

Nothing he understood could explain it. He voiced the question and the Herd Mentor explained that the rivalry between the two species was not at as simple, or as one sided, as most Centaurs thought.

"But you said-"

"I told you to stay away from them because they are dangerous, particularly to an inexperienced youth like yourself. I did not tell you that they are enemies. Your father went away with Albus Dumbledore who is not like most of them, and who has always been a friend of us."

"Then why are the others angry?"

"Because Dumbledore lives among other wizards who are not our friends, and because they believe that your father will betray our secrets to the humans."

"He is not doing that!" He was indignant, even to forgetting his recently learned grammar, but a voice in his mind told him that he actually didn't know his father very well. He had still been a half sentient foal when he'd last seen him. He remembered games of running through the woods. A bearded face talking about wonderful mysteries, showing him where to find delicate fruits hidden under bushes, and above all, a warm reassuring and friendly presence.

Lyman stayed silent. He had wondered himself if Firenze's decision had been wise. That one had always shown a maverick attraction for adventure, and an unusual tolerance for humans.

"He would not?" repeated Flitz in a low, anxious voice.

Lyman finally shook his head.

"No, I do not think he would, and you should know that the wizard Dumbledore has helped us several times in the past. Your father had a good reason to follow him." _Or perhaps a good excuse._

"You knew him?"

"Of course. I taught him, as I taught you and many others." _And he was my friend._

Flitz's hand moved absently across the ground, brushing away leaves to clear some soil. His eyes stayed low and didn't meet those of the other Centaur.

"I miss him."

Once again Lyman said nothing. Flitz used his finger to trace vague patterns in the dirt.

"Could I be allowed to ... see him?" he asked very softly, fearful of a brash response.

Lyman sighed deeply. Not for the first time, he tried to think of a solution to Firenze's problem. On the one hand, if he was to stay banished, the short term favor his son was asking would only aggravate the misery both of them must feel. On the other hand, the youth's current favored status could well be an occasion to influence the Herd to accept the errant Centaur back into its fold. The question was one of timing.

"I cannot give you that permission." The disappointment on the young Centaur's face was painful to watch. "Yet," he added, and the trainee's eyes lit up. "But I will do what I can to make this possible."

A hopeful expression illuminated Flitz's face. Lyman knew that he was committed.

"I wait then. Thank you master."


	16. Chapter 15 Returning

_Our friends are coming back to school. Arthur is notified of his new assignment by Fudge and the Centaurs ... well something important happens with them._

* * *

**_Chapter 15 - Returning_**

_London, King Cross,_

"I hope they got our letter," said Harry, struggling with two pairs of skis, a large suitcase and a backpack.

"If they didn't, then we'll just have to ask the Headmaster permission to make a quick trip back to Grimauld to get our stuff. Ah, the left luggage lockers are over there." Hermione was not as overloaded as he was, but it would not be a moment too soon before she could get rid of the heavy bag which held most of her ski equipment and laundry.

They got to the rows of lockers, and he considered their diminutive size with a critical eye.

"What are we going to do with the skis?"

"There're some larger ones in the back."

He turned his head and effectively, there were a dozen of human sizes panels at the end of the series.

"Oh. Well, Miss Granger is certainly travel-wise," he said in a fake respectful tone. "If I may say so, I am very lucky to have her with me."

"You certainly can, my dear Harry," she replied with a posh accent. "Can I trust you to store all this while I try and find Helen?"

He managed a short bow without dropping the skis.

"Very well, Miss Granger. Your man-servant will do as you command."

She waved gaily and went away chuckling, leaving him with all their bags. It had been the best ski holiday in her memory. Harry and her parents had gotten along splendidly. She hadn't had any doubt about that, and she knew that for him, it had been the first true vacation of his life, since even the past summer had been largely filled with training and other preparation. She marched toward the rendezvous point and looked around for the tall blond woman.

"Helen!"

"Hi, Hermione."

They greeted each other warmly and went back to rejoin Harry, who had just finished storing away all the things they would not need at Hogwarts. It left them with one bag each for their personal belongings and some presents for their friends.

"Don't you want to take that back to the school?" asked Helen.

"No. We'll just ask Remus or Tonks to recover it later." It might take a couple of days, but that should not be a problem.

"Give these to me Harry," she said, gesturing toward the keys. "I'll take care of the laundry, and I'll arrange to have everything send to your house."

"Thanks." He gave her the two keys. "But don't bother washing anything. Dobby and Winky will take care of it."

"If you say so."

"Do you want to sit down somewhere?" proposed Hermione.

"A nice warm place, if possible," added Harry. The big passenger hall of the station was not the most comfortable place in the winter, and he wasn't wearing his ski suit anymore.

"Sure. There's a pub over there."

They followed her inside, and to an unoccupied booth. A waitress came to them and they ordered some hot cocoa. Hermione got down to business immediately, explaining their project for a grand association to bring together Wizards, other magical creatures, and those Muggles who knew the truth. She also added, as tactfully as she could, that her parents weren't really interested, but that maybe others would be.

"Professor McGonagall had given me some statistics," she said, consulting her notes. "There are sixty seven parents of students which are Muggles, and twenty four have no other links to wizards, except for their children. I haven't included the Dursleys," she added for Harry's benefit.

"How many do you think would like to join?"

"I have no idea. We'll have to ask around."

"Does your association have a name?"

Hermione was slightly embarrassed to admit that it didn't. She hadn't really worked very hard on it, and every time one of them proposed a new name, the others would gag at how bad it was.

"Er, we're not really decided yet. The last idea I had was _Universal Community of Intelligent Magical Creature_s," she said. Harry groaned.

"Hum," said Helen. Hermione made a gesture of helplessness.

"One can't be a genius at everything," explained Harry in a deadpan voice. "Aside from imagining names for associations, Hermione is really very gifted, and her knowledge of-"

"Shut up, Harry," said Hermione.

They discussed it a little more. Helen was of the opinion that a proper, easy to identify, name was very important to the success of the project.

"What about _Fraternity of Magic_?" finally proposed Helen.

The two young people looked at each other, Hermione silently mouthing the words to evaluate how it sounded when mixed in everyday conversation.

"Why not?"

"Sold," said Harry.

"Okay then, where do I sign up?" She looked radiant that her suggestion had been accepted.

"We haven't really started it officially, but I'm going to do that real soon."

"Yeah, and she'll probably give you a big badge with FOM written on it," added Harry. "She's real good at that and - _Ouch!_" He massaged his side where her elbow had hit him.

"We'll have to find a way to communicate," continued Hermione, ignoring him. "We can send you owls but you'll only be able to reply right away." She thought about it for a moment. "I'll think of something, and we'll have to organize another meeting anyway."

"Severus said that the next time parents of students can come to the school, he would try to arrange for me to be there."

_Oh. On a first name basis already? That's interesting._

"Why wouldn't you come to the ceremony at the Auror academy?" asked Harry innocently.

"What ceremony?"

"Fudge's giving us all medals. The six of us and professor Snape."

"He didn't tell me that," she replied, frowning.

"Maybe he didn't want to show off," he said, shrugging. "Would you like to be there?"

"Yes!" There was no mistaking the eagerness in her eyes. They couldn't help smiling.

"All right then. We'll ask Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to pick you up."

She frowned.

"Wouldn't it be simpler to-" She remembered what Hermione had said. "Ah, your parents aren't going perhaps?" The younger girl grimaced and silently shook her head.

"I haven't even told them." She shrugged. It bothered her a little, but she was reluctant to discuss it.

"You seem to get along well with professor Snape?" she asked instead, trying to change the subject.

Helen brightened visibly.

"Yes. I can't say that I understand him completely, but we get along." She hesitated, then tentatively. "Can I ask you a personal question about him?"

Hermione turned toward Harry. He nodded silently, but his expression was guarded.

"I understand why you are awarded decorations," said Helen. "But can you tell me what his role was exactly?"

Harry took his time before answering, unsure how much to tell her. Some things were none of anybody's business.

"I don't want to pry," she added, carefully choosing her words. "We're friends and I just want to ... understand him a little better."

Hermione's ears pricked up. She looked at Helen, and her eyes begged the question. The older woman smiled gently.

"Just friends." she added. _For now._

Hermione touched Harry's hand, and then her thoughts were in his mind.

_She doesn't want simple friendship. I think she ought to know the truth._

_Are you sure?_

_Otherwise she's never going to understand. She could even get hurt._

_All right._

"Professor Snape was an agent inside Voldemort's organization," explained Harry. Her eyes grew wide. He nodded. "It would take too long to go into details, but you should know that it was extremely dangerous, quite unpleasant and often very painful. For several years, he didn't expect to survive no matter what the outcome would be."

Unrestrained horror showed on her face, mixed with curiosity.

"How do you know that?"

"I was inside his mind at one time."

"Harry saved him," added Hermione. "I helped a little, but it was really he who did it."

"You helped a lot, and it was your idea in the first place," he corrected. "Anyway, then he helped Draco, so we're all together in this." He tried to find the proper words to explain. "What you should know is that professor Snape is someone who had been through a lot of hardship, and he is-"

"- a complex man," completed Helen with a grin. "Yes. I noticed."

"Well, you said it." He locked eyes with her. "He really delivered when things got tough. I'd trust him with my life but," he shrugged, "it's still hard to get close to him."

Helen looked at him for a moment. It was evident that they all shared a deep bond. She tried to imagine in what kind of hell it must have been forged. She reflected on what she had seen of the man, and then she lowered her eyes.

"I've ... seen some of that." A trace of a smile showed on her face. "But I think the ice is melting a little."

"We would help in any way to make him, and you, happy," blurted out Harry. He blushed, suddenly aware of the presumption of saying such things about two adults who were certainly much more experienced than him. "I'm sorry, I -"

"Thank you," said Helen. "I think you have."

No one said anything for a moment. They just sat there, their hands wrapped around the warmth of their drinks. Helen was happy to hear Harry talk that way about Severus. It confirmed her instincts about the man. She also understood that he must have had a hard life, she probably couldn't imagine how bad, and that explained a lot about his attitude. It also encouraged her to continue seeing him.

"I want to be there at the ceremony," she said firmly. "And I will help you with the association."

Hermione nodded soberly.

"We'll be in touch. You can count on us."

"Oh, but I do." She glanced at her watch. "But we should be going, if you don't want to miss your train."

They paid quickly and proceeded to platform 9¾. Helen rejoined her children, while Harry and Hermione moved toward the wagon which was normally used by the older students. Some people waved at them from the windows. They waved back and smiled at the friends they recognized. Suddenly, Hermione got a decisive look on her face and stopped Harry from climbing in.

"What is it?" he asked, perplexed. She pointed toward the other end of the train.

"Follow me, I'll explain as we walk," she said, as she pulled him along the platform. Harry shrugged and re-adjusted the shoulder strap of his bag. She was making way toward the last wagon where Alicia and Richard were saying goodbye to their mother. Silena was standing on the train doorstep, evidently waiting for them.

"I think we should start doing a little bit of public relationship," whispered Hermione. Checking his frown, she continued. "Talking with Helen reminded me of one important thing. We need numbers on our side, and we need to be popular."

"Er, all right but what are you planning exactly?" he asked. He was suddenly uneasy at the idea of doing some kind of propaganda among the students. Leading the DA was one thing, but he didn't want to act like Fudge or any other politician.

"We're not going to do anything special," she replied, sensing some of his reluctance. "What was it that Dumbledore said? Yes, Charmers. That's what we're going to practice."

"Hermione, I-"

"Harry. All you have to do is be friendly. Ask how their vacations were, sign Chocolate Frog cards, and answer their questions. That kind of thing. You did it before, remember?"

"Yes, but that was after the Dementors attack."

"Well, this is after the victory over Voldemort." She looked at him severely. "Don't tell me a Gryffindor is scared to talk to his own schoolmates?"

He couldn't say anything to that, so he just shut up and followed her. As it happened, Alicia, Richard and Silena had waited for them and immediately brought them in their wagon. They started an excited discussion about Quidditch and skiing. Hermione was right. Harry didn't have to make any effort to initiate conversations. Every kid wanted to have a word with him, and at that age they weren't very difficult to handle. It was only after some time, that he noticed that the train had left the station, and that they were already a good distance from London. They continued to talk. Hermione participated as well, but mostly she made sure that most students had a chance to speak with one of them. No one noticed that she was also very discretely eliciting information about who their parents were, and especially if they were Muggles or if they came from pure blood families.

They moved along the train, stopping at every compartment. Word of their presence had been getting ahead of them, and by the time they had gotten to them, the third years were already queuing up for their turn. The younger Creevey brother, Dennis, appeared to be actively leading a group of Muggle or mixed blood students, showering them with anecdotes about them. He was extremely proud to have been part of the original DA, and he didn't miss any chance to let it show. After a moment, Harry found that he was really enjoying himself, and he fell into the spirit of the exercise.

"You should be Head Boy and Girl, you and Hermione," Dennis said excitedly.

Harry smiled indulgently.

"Well, maybe next year," he said.

"Of course next year," said a tall skinny girl with the Gryffindor symbol on her robe. "But this even this year, you're much more important than Desmond and Themis."

"Yeah," said someone else. "If there's any more trouble we want to know that _you _are on it."

"There's not just the two of us," said Hermione. "We're a team with the others."

"And maybe it's Draco who will be Head Boy," said a boy who was manifestly a Slytherin. Some of the others gave him hard looks, and he looked back stubbornly. Another Slytherin, a girl, looked at Hermione with a frightened expression, but Harry laughed good-naturedly.

"That's certainly possible," he replied, "but you know, I won't mind if that's the case. Draco's my friend." He turned toward Hermione. "Although I'd very much prefer to share the Head Boy and Girl quarters with my girlfriend." He winked at the boy who showed a sly grin and stood up.

"Okay, we'll be moving on. It was nice talking with you. Remember that we're all in the school together, even if there's only one House Cup and one Quidditch Cup."

They continued the long way toward the head of the train. It was some time before they reached their friends' compartment.

"Over there!"

"Hey mate! What took you so long?"

Harry grinned and let himself drop on one of the two seats they had saved for them.

"Just talking with a bunch of kids. How was your vacation?"

Ron stretched luxuriously in his seat, putting his legs against Luna who was across him.

"Two weeks of bliss. Me and Luna, no homework, no lessons. I loved it. How was _skitting_?"

"It's skiing and it was great. We took some pictures, but they're muggle style, not moving."

"Actually," said Hermione, "I think we could do something about that. I heard Colin talk about a spell for animating stills."

"What about you?" asked Harry, addressing Draco and Ginny.

"We went to the Parkinsons two days ago," replied Draco thoughtfully, "with Ginny and professor Snape."

Hermione was suddenly very interested. She looked at Ginny who nodded.

"And?"

"We meet some very interesting persons." Draco described the dinner and the discussion they had with Trevor and Lord Shrummer. Harry let out a low whistle.

"You've been moving fast."

"We didn't have much choice. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity."

"I'd like to meet these people," said Hermione thoughtfully. She wasn't sure how to evaluate this. On one hand they appeared to be typical, tradition bound pureblood families, but on the other, they vehemently opposed any Dark Lords.

"You will," replied Ginny. "At the ceremony."

"Shouldn't we speak to professor Dumbledore about this?" asked Luna.

"Snape was with us," said Draco, shrugging. They will certainly talk about it, and if the Headmaster wants to know more, then he will ask us. Besides, Lord Shrummer is a member of the Wizengamot, so they certainly know each other."

"But it doesn't mean that they're on the same side."

Draco threw her an annoyed glance. It was typical of Hermione to look for problems before they existed. Ginny changed the subject before they could start an argument.

"There's one little thing you haven't told them," she said, scowling at Draco whose face suddenly took on a vary expression.

"Hum, well we also met the owners of Nimbus Flyware." Ron's ears pricked up at that. He hadn't really followed closely the discussion about politics, but flying brooms were another matter.

"You did? Blimey, now that's something. What did they say? Anything about a new model coming out?"

Looking at Draco, Harry had a vague hunch as to where this was getting to. He measured Ginny's scowl against his friend's evident embarrassment.

"Well he was very interested in our Quidditch play." Ron started to smile, visions of themselves promoting the latest series of Nimbus brooms filling his mind. _We might even get a lucrative contract that could help me start a career as a professional player._

"And?"

Draco unease was now evident.

"He's going to get a special model for the next match," declared Ginny. "So Slytherin can win the cup." He shot her an angry look, while Harry and Ron exclaimed as one.

"WHAT!"

Draco raised his hand to calm them down.

"Let me explain," he began.

"Yeah, and you better have a good story," warned Ron who looked ready to return to his former anti Slytherin attitude.

Draco looked at them stubbornly and waited until they were listening.

"I made a deal, and I think it was a fair one." He turned to Harry. "You remember when you got your Firebolt three years ago, and how it was so much better than anybody's broom?" Harry nodded.

"Well Sir Comil is going to lend me one prototype broom, which I will test during the coming match between us. This will give me a fighting chance against you." Harry's face was noncommittal, and Ron was ready to explode. "We have also agreed that after the match, he will make an equal offer to all of Hogwarts' teams."

He had insisted on that, knowing full well that it was a minimal gesture to keep the peace.

"But you'll have won the Cup by then. And all the Slytherins already have Nimbus 2001s," said Ron. "That's hardly fair for us."

Draco shrugged and indicated Ginny.

"I'm giving my own broom to Ginny, and you've won the last two Cups. I think that the scoring teams are well matched, and now the Seekers will be." He locked eyes with Harry. "I'll just get a good chance at catching the Snitch."

Harry thought about it. He was sufficiently confident about his ability to win, all other things being equal. Of course a new broom would give Draco an unknown edge, but that only added some spice.

"All right. I accept the challenge."

"You sure about this Harry?" asked Ron, who had been mentally reviewing the teams' strong and weak points. Ginny was Chaser and having a fast broom would help, the rest of the Slytherin team was unchanged, and they had played well against them last time. The only way they could lose was if Draco caught the Snitch. He would trust Harry's judgment on that.

"Yes." He flashed his triumphant smile at Draco who responded in kind. This was going to be a match to remember. The two boys had the same thought in their minds.

_I'm going to pluck the Snitch from the sky, right in front of his face._

- - -

_Ministry of Magic,_

"It's impossible!"

Fudge took on a pained expression and sat back into his large and comfortable chair.

"My dear Arthur, not only is it quite possible, but you are perfect for the job." He considered the other man shrewdly. "This is a position of great responsibility, and it comes with a significant increase of salary." He named a flattering sum, but Arthur Weasley's stubborn expression didn't change.

_If money was important to me, I'd have left long ago._

"Minister, I can't leave my job at Misuse of Muggle Artifacts. I'll be abandoning Perkins and-" Fudge brushed the objection aside.

"Don't you think that Perkins can take over as Head of the department?"

"Well ..." Arthur hadn't really thought about it. _Perkins knows the ropes certainly. He doesn't have a lot of experience as a manager, but then there was anybody else than the two of us._ "He'll be all alone and-"

"I'll assign a junior official to help him," said the Minister decisively. Arthur grimaced and balanced his head unhappily. _A rookie. He'll have to be trained. That's going to take more time._

Fudge wasn't in the mood to argue. He had effectively promised Weasley's nomination to Shrummer, in front of several witnesses. He couldn't go back.

"I'll give him two assistants. That should be quite enough. After all, you made do with only one." He tried another tack. "Come on Arthur, surely you can appreciate what a splendid opportunity it is for him to get such a promotion?"

Guilt played across Arthur's features. By refusing the assignment, he would effectively be blocking Perkins' advancement. It made his personal reticence look selfish.

"Yes but-"

"Arthur," interrupted Fudge. "I assure you it's the best decision for everyone. The entire Wizengamot is ready to approve your nomination."

That shook him.

"Even the Chief Warlock?"

"Even Dumbledore," lied Fudge smoothly. Of course he hadn't consulted him. The man took an insanely long time to decide on anything of that nature.

Arthur was disconcerted. The news of the Headmaster's approval was a final clinch, and he didn't have the presence of mind to doubt it. It was one thing to analyze dispassionately Fudge's manipulations from a distance, it was quite another to handle it in real time.

_If Albus okays it then I guess I should do it._

"Well, in that case I-"

"I'm delighted that you accept the job," jumped Fudge. He stood up and walked around his desk to shake the man's hand. "My dear Arthur, I know that you are going to do a great job over there, and I wish you the best of luck." _You'll need it._ "Just sign here, if you please, so that we can make it official." He gave him a quill and showed him the prepared order of mission.

Arthur took the implement and let himself be guided to the proper emplacement.

_This is really going too fast._

He hesitated and straightened up.

"Just a question," he said.

"Yes," replied Fudge impatiently. "What is it?"

"Will Mockridge's team stay in place?"

Fudge looked at him as if he'd asked a question about the janitor's choice of detergent. What the department heads did with their staff was not something he was very interested in, as long as they didn't go over budget, or stepped on the toes of important relations.

"My dear man. You'll have a free hand in this, within limits. If you want to make some minor changes, I won't interfere."

_All right. That should give me enough leeway to handle any internal problems._

He looked at the document, feeling that there was nothing more he could do about it. He signed his name next to Fudge's and presented it to him. With a wave of his wand, the Minister made several magically certified duplicates and gave him one.

_At least Molly will be happy._

They shook hands again. Fudge had the contented look of a man who had just solved a difficult problem. Arthur was feeling slightly euphoric, now that the decision had been taken. It was after all a big promotion.

"Thank you very much Minister. I assure you that I will do my best."

"But I don't doubt it, my dear Arthur. Now let me take you to your new office, and introduce you myself to your future staff."

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

The students were transported from the Hogsmeade station to the school in the usual manner. There was no feast, it was just a start of term after all, but the dinner was cheerful enough and most students were happy to be back, some for work, some for fun, and some for both.

The Heads of House made a brief visit to the common rooms to make sure that everything was as it should be. They reminded everyone that normal classes would resume in the morning, and therefore that turning in early was more than advisable. The prefects were enjoined to maintain the proper discipline, now that there were no possible reasons for straying from the normal academic routine.

Hermione took the instructions very seriously as usual. She chased off everybody out of the common room at ten PM, silencing Ron's offer of lenience with a glare. The boys went up to their dorms and consoled themselves with a couple of card games before turning off the lights.

- - -

_Forbidden Forest,_

"Left arm straight out, legs spread, face the target!" barked Lyman.

Flitz's arms were painful from the long hours of exercise. He was tired and frustrated, but the old Centaur teacher was relentless. He took the proper position once again, prepared a new arrow and concentrated on the target, a low hanging fruit the size of an orange, twenty paces away.

"Your left leg is too much forward! Think of your balance. How many times must I say it?"

Flitz shuffled his stance to find the correct alignment. It was not easy on the uneven ground, and to add to his difficulties, he was in full growth and not always comfortable with his fast changing body.

He set his jaw and fixed the target once again, picturing the fruit and the arrow in his mind, two things which he willed to join together. In one fluid gesture he pulled the bowstring, took aim and released the missile. It brushed the target by less than two inches and drove into the big ball of hay behind it.

"Missed again!" called out the Herd Mentor. His voice was as biting as before, but he privately acknowledged the improvement. He debated whether or not to allow his charge to try once more and finally decided that a little frustration wouldn't do any harm. The youth would be all the more motivated to do better next time.

"That will be enough. I think we will finish the day with some hunt training."

Flitz's disappointment was strong, but he kept his mouth shut as he turned toward his teacher and restored his bow across his chest and back in the approved fashion. Besides, hunt training was fun, and he was good at it. The Herd Mentor would pick one of the running pets and give it some time to get away and build up a lead, and then he would have to track and catch it. The difficulty, and the length, of the exercise was the degree of darkness, and the time he was made to wait before starting. He was usually asked to sing part of a song, or to recite a poem.

"Tonight I will hear the first four stanzas of 'Silver Moon Clouds' before you can go. The mares have prepared a fine meal. I will not wait long for you before I eat your share."

Lyman went to one of the baskets nearby, opened one and took out a small furry rabbit like creature. A Tackling. He held it in front of Flitz until the young Centaur had smelled him and was ready to perform. The trainee sniffed once. It was not really necessary because he had often played with that particular Tackling before, and he remembered its scent very well. It answered to the name of Tal. He nodded and Lyman threw the animal toward one of the path in the deep forest.

"_Bright the Orb over the rise_," intoned Flitz in as clear a voice as he could manage. "_Deep are the clouds of those skies _..."

He knew that if he made a mistake he would have to start again, and if he took too long then he might have to content himself with the leftovers for his dinner. He didn't really believe that the old Centaur would be so cruel, but he might still do it for the sake of a lesson.

When he finished the last verse, Lyman lowered his arm and send him on his way. Flitz galloped quickly along the path the Tackling had taken. The Herd Mentor watched him run away and chuckled. The lad was doing well, and he had no doubt that he would be back in time.

Night was falling but that didn't bother Flitz as much as it once did. He opened his Sight to make visible the auras of the Forest's living things. The trees glowed softly, and the many insects were like fireflies everywhere. Having played this game several times, he knew that the animal would run straight for some distance before changing direction. After a few dozen strides, he slowed down and looked and breathed carefully for any clues. There! A low branch was broken but it still showed the warmth of its lingering life. It had been broken very recently. A quick sniff confirmed that his quarry had gone that way. He ran off in hot pursuit.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Albus Dumbledore came out of his office and consulted his fancy watch. What he saw there, and a quick look at the enchanted ceiling in the great hall, where the sky was bright with stars, told him that he would find Firenze outside. Not on the Astronomy tower certainly, the Centaur might barely be able to make it up the steep staircase, but in the next best place. The eastern terrace. He conjured a big fur coat, wrapped a long woolen scarf around his neck and beard, and stepped out into the courtyard.

Firenze was indeed gazing up at the stars, a thoughtful and anxious expression on his face. As the wizard came up on the terrace, the Centaur lowered his head and looked longingly at the distant edge of the Forest.

"Good evening, Firenze,"

"Blessings to you, Headmaster," he replied formally.

Neither said anything more. Firenze was clearly preoccupied, and Dumbledore, as usual, took the time to read his mood. He looked up for a moment but divination had never been his strong point. He had actually spent several years trying to read the stars as these puzzling creatures did. A significant investment of time for most wizards, but it was only a small part of his 170 years. Still, it was a difficult discipline and the results were meager at best, even if he could recognize a few signs.

"Trouble?" he asked gently.

"I sense my son out there, and danger as well," said the Centaur in a low voice.

"Danger? Is anything menacing the Herd? He is still a child and they would protect him."

"He is no longer a foal. He passed the Ritual a few days ago." _And I was not there._

Dumbledore knew a little about Centaur customs. He understood that after their coming of age, the young Centaurs where extensively trained before being considered fully adults. He also knew that the Ritual was a very important moment. No Centaur had ever explained these mysteries to him, but he had some ideas nonetheless.

He looked at Firenze and saw the sadness on his face.

"I have asked a bigger sacrifice of you than I realized, my friend."

"I chose freely, and your need was great." _And I can trust Lyman to look after him, but I miss my little Flitz._

"Is there anything I can do?"

Firenze could not take his eyes away from the Forest. The sense of danger was stronger, he could feel it. It was even colder than the wind.

"I must go there," he said suddenly. "Right now." He hesitated and turned a pleading look at the wizard. "Will you come with me?"

Dumbledore nodded. He could sense the Centaur's agitation, and if he had to go into the Forest, Firenze would need someone to protect him from his own people, and from whatever was out there. It would be the least he could do.

- - -

_Forbidden Forest,_

Flitz ran for several minutes. He didn't fear getting lost. He could orient himself and find the camp easily. It was as if he had a compass in his head. Some parts, several parts actually, of the Forest were dangerous, but he could expect an early warning, and the one he was chasing would be even more wary of any predator. There was nothing at all to fear. He could smell that he was close, when he came upon a large clearing. He stopped as a sudden menacing hiss was heard, like the sound of a red hot rock touching water.

The Tackling was hunched next to a tree stump and facing what looked like a large black bat which was evidently attacking it. Flitz had never seen such a creature before, but he didn't hesitate. He took out his bow and nocked an arrow, expanding his Sight to encompass any other surprise which might be lurking around him. The Tackling glowed white with life force and fear. Other small animals could be seen in the grass, hiding behind branches and tree, but the bat like creature remained as dark as before. It darted toward its prey and barely missed it when it turned around the stump.

_That's odd. Nothing alive should be so dark, and nothing dead should move so quickly._

Even the thing's movements were strange. They were jerky, blindingly fast but strangely uncoordinated. He could hear Tal's whimper of fear. The poor thing had expected a friendly chase and run, but it was turning into a nightmare.

Flitz pulled the bowstring and aimed at the moving black shape. The arrow zipped toward its target and nipped one of its wings. He heard the sound of something crystalline breaking, but there was no time to examine the results. The thing reacted with blinding speed and immediately flew toward him, hissing with fury. A wave of pure terror struck him and his muscles froze while the creature rushed toward his position. The shape wasn't entirely dark. Bright burning eyes could be seen in its face. The Centaur shook himself out of his paralysis and, with barely a second to spare, jumped to the side and let it crash into a nearby tree, but not before a talon racked his upper arm.

Flitz ran away into the forest, zig-zagging between trees and branches. He was still terrified, and his shoulder was burning in pain, but his reaction was sound. The thing was following him, but it had more trouble evading the many obstructions. The noise it made, crashing into foliage and breaking small twigs, along with that awful hissing sound, was enough to give him strength to move faster than ever before. His Sight helped him as well. The chase continued for a moment when suddenly, he saw a familiar vapory shape accelerate in front of him and jump nimbly around the trees. Trusting his instincts, he followed its movements and found that it helped him negotiate the obstacles even better. It was a few seconds before he realized that the shape was exactly like his own. It was as if he knew in advance what turn to make to progress as fast as possible. The sounds of pursuit lessened behind him as he gained on the creature and some calm returned to his mind.

_I've got to return into the clearing while I have some lead on it. Then I will be able to shoot at it again._

It was very dangerous, but he was already tiring, and there was no possibility that he could maintain such a pace all the way back to the camp. He willed to find a way back toward the open space. The ghost image obliged and inclined to the right. He followed it and saw the outline of the forest's edge. He came out running into the clear, counted four strides and turned abruptly while placing a new arrow to his bow. Lyman would have been proud of his coordination.

The thing was just coming out of the trees. In his Sight, he could see it as a pure black winged shape against the glowing background of the living vegetation. In addition to wings, it had legs and arms which ended in vicious looking talons. He didn't have any time to concentrate, but in his mind the arrow and the target were one. He pulled and let go in one fluid gesture. The missile flew straight into the left wing of the creature and shattered it in several pieces.

_It broke up like brittle clay. What is this?_

Whatever the thing was, it was not dead. It could not fly anymore but it still moved quickly on the ground toward him, gripping the grass with its claws. The insane terror returned, but he forced himself to act. Stringing a new arrow he aimed again, but before he could shoot, the thing had jumped at him, and he felt a sharp jab of pain in his chest. Loosing the bow he grabbed at it and tried to throw it away. It felt like hot stone. He strained convulsively with all his strength, and heard something break as he felt a terrible pain in his side. He screamed and battered the ground in rage with his forelegs. The creature was badly damaged but still moving, and he realized that he had to destroy it before it could attack again. He had no weapon left, and there was no time to recover his bow. All he had were his hands and legs. He forced himself to move toward the half broken thing and trampled the remains blindly, feeling the hard parts break under his hooves.

He took a step away and fell on the ground, exhausted. He stopped moving and hugged himself, trying to surround the pain which flared with every breath. His heart was beating fast from the exertions and the stress. Nothing moved except for the terrified Tackling who cautiously left its hiding to approach the wounded Centaur. Flitz was dizzy with shock. He barely felt the small creature licking at his wounds and tremble against him. He was losing consciousness, and somehow he knew that this was a very dangerous thing to do. He had to get help.

_The Tackling, I've got to send him back, Lyman will understand the message._

He pushed away the animal, saying the Herd Mentor's name several times. After a moment, the little creature seemed to understand and went away, obviously reluctant to leave him, but obeying nonetheless. Once it was gone, Flitz prepared himself to wait. His thinking was becoming sluggish, and he couldn't even hold his Sight anymore. The normal Darkness of the forest gradually surrounded him. Weak with reaction, he wasn't even afraid of being alone. All he wanted was to rest, and to sleep, but he struggled not to.

- - -

_Hogwarts grounds,_

Firenze and Dumbledore had come down quickly from the terrace and into the grounds outside the castle. The Headmaster was moving much faster than a man of his age could be expected too, but it was still not good enough for Firenze.

"Can't you run faster?" asked the Centaur.

"Unfortunately no," replied the wizard. "I wouldn't presume to ask you to carry me, so I am afraid that this is the best I can do. I will not force you to wait for me."

Firenze shook his mane angrily and started to gallop toward the Forest's edge, but he knew it was a stupid thing to do without the Headmaster. In addition to the unknown danger he had sensed, he was bound to meet some of his people, and if he was alone they would not even listen to him. He stopped and turned back toward the wizard.

"I can conceive of no other circumstances under which I would even consider such a thing," he said with acute distaste. "Get on with it, and pray that no one sees us."

Dumbledore performed a quick cushioning and anchoring spell and jumped gracefully on the Centaur's back.

"I will not actually touch you. Your honor should be safe," he couldn't resist saying.

He disillusioned them with another wave of his wand. This would not be very effective against a Centaur Sight at close range, but combined with the normal cover of the woods, it should be enough for discrete traveling.

Firenze rode hard, not wasting any time. Dumbledore hung on and congratulated himself on the quality of his anchoring charm. No human muscles would have kept him on any horse in such a ride. The Centaur seemed to know where he was going, but he didn't explain how. They had their ways, and any questions would certainly have to wait. The Headmaster was soon busy enough evading the low branches zipping past his head.

- - -

_Forbidden Forest,_

The pain was bad. There was something in his side. He could taste blood, and every breath was agony. He had tried to be brave and to stay calm, but he couldn't hold back the whimpers and the sobs anymore. Why was it taking so long? Adults should be here to help him. It wasn't fair.

Lost in the haze of pain, Flitz didn't notice immediately the change in his surrounding. The hurting was getting worse, and it was so hopeless and cold. As he looked before him, he noticed the grass turning white with frost. That surprised him. Even though it was winter, the temperature wasn't that cold. New feelings of dread filled him, and they were even worse than the pain of his wound. Something was wrong. He looked up and saw a black shape in coming into the clearing.

_Another demon! I'm not going to be able to fight it._

Able or not, he would make a stand and die fighting. That much was expected of any Centaur. Gritting his teeth he made a desperate effort to recover his bow. The quiver of arrows was on his back and reaching behind him to get one was impossible. He managed to shrug his shoulder and drop it on the ground. He didn't see how he was going to bend the bow in his condition. It would hurt even more, but if he was going to die, then pain would not be of any importance.

He stringed the arrow and started to pull but the agony was too much.

"Aaaah!"

He had to scream and there was no real strength behind the shot. The arrow flew straight but didn't do anything as it passed through the monster's shape.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" intoned Dumbledore.

A great silver Phoenix shot out of his wand, its blinding light illuminating the clearing. The Dementor fled back in disarray. Firenze knew that there was nothing he could do against that kind of creature, so he rushed toward the crumpled form on the ground. Even without the light, he had recognized it.

"Flitz! What happened? Are you- Headmaster! He's hurt!"

Dumbledore quickly moved toward the two Centaurs. The Patronus had disappeared, but a powerful light from his wand showed the blood running down Flitz's coat, arm and face. The chest wound looked serious. The young Centaur had his hand clenched against it.

"Be careful Firenze. He mustn't be moved until we can check the bleeding."

"He's dying! He must be transported to where we can heal him!"

"Father ..." murmured the youth, coughing blood.

"I'm here Flitz. You must stay still. We will take care of you." Firenze's face was a mask of anguish. He bent down to press his face to that of his son.

Dumbledore considered the situation. None of them were healers, and he didn't know enough about Centaur physiology to make a proper diagnostic, but the wound was in the human part, and the lung was probably perforated.

_Fawkes I need you._

A shrill cry was suddenly heard, and the red Phoenix glided gracefully into the clearing. Dumbledore smiled and gestured to his trusted familiar. The bird landed next to the young Centaur and considered the bleeding chest wound. Then he looked pointedly back at the old wizard.

_There must be something in the wound. I must remove it first._

"Flitz, can you hear me?"

Firenze raised his head and Flitz managed to turn a little toward his. He was pale and trembling. His teeth were chattering.

"Flitz, listen to me. Fawkes will cure your wound, but first I will have to remove what is inside you. It will hurt, but it will not last long. Can you take your hand away?"

The youth gulped and nodded hesitantly. Fear and pain visible in his eyes. Firenze took his bloody hand in his and brought it against his face. Dumbledore pointed his wand at the wound.

"_Waddiwasi!_"

Flitz screamed in pain as the golem talon shot out of his side, followed by a gushing of blood and clearer liquid. Immediately, Fawkes bent his head and two big tears fell on the gaping hole. The Centaur led out a sob and dropped his head on the ground. It still hurt, but not as much, and the feeling was fading. Firenze embraced him and cried unashamedly, as the Phoenix dropped more tears on the rest of the wounds, while Dumbledore checked that there was nothing else wrong with him.

"What is happening here?" sounded the deep furious voice of Bane as he entered the clearing, closely followed by Lyman.

The little Tackling passed them by and ran directly toward Flitz, snuggling against him. The two Centaurs considered the situation. They had been surprised to see the pet come back to the camp, its fur covered in blood, and highly distressed. They reasoned correctly that something unforeseen must have happened to Flitz, and quickly left to go and help him, after notifying someone to rouse a healer and follow their tracks. The young Centaur was still lying on the ground in a pool of blood, and next to him were the Firenze renegade and the Hogwarts Headmaster. Two persons who had no rights to be in the Forest.

"Good evening Bane," replied Dumbledore calmly. He turned to face the two Centaurs, his wand still in his hand, but not directed at anyone.

"This youth has been attacked, first by some unknown creature, and then by one of the remaining Dementors still lurking in these parts. He was hurt but he should recover."

Lyman looked at Flitz, who was still clinging to his bow. The quiver of arrows was lying on the ground, its content spilled. The lad had evidently been fighting before being overcome.

"Can you talk? What is it that attacked you?" asked Bane.

Flitz gestured to the remains of the golem gargoyle.

"It attacked the Tackling. I shot at him, but it wasn't good enough. Then I ran and turned around." He described the combat, and Firenze looked at him with undisguised pride. So young and yet he had fought well and courageously against a deadly enemy. Even Bane was impressed. He exchanged a look with Lyman who nodded gravely. They examined the remains of the golem and turned toward Dumbledore.

"I have never seen one of these," said Bane. "Do you know what this is?" he asked of the wizard.

Dumbledore took one of the pieces of stone and tapped it with his wand. The stone shone blue for a moment and then faded back to a dull grey.

"A guardian statue," confirmed the wizard. "They are usually found around houses to be protected. Very few people use them anymore." He looked pointedly at Bane. "There are none at Hogwarts."

"So it must have come from some other place," said Firenze. The two others suddenly reacted to his presence.

"You are not welcome here Firenze," said Bane in a hard voice. "Did I not make myself clear that last time?"

The younger Centaur bristled.

"I came back to help my son! I can understand your spite toward me, but would you let one of the Herd die because of it?" He threw an accusing look at Lyman. "You trained him well, but your duty was also to protect him." Lyman winced at the reproach. He was already feeling the guilt at having let the youth in such danger.

"We didn't know such a _thing_ was around," replied Bane hotly. "There should have been no danger which he couldn't escape from, and no danger at all except from your wizard friends' doings." All Centaurs and foals had been warned to run away from the Dementors, and the other dangerous creatures of the Forest had learned not to look for trouble. They would never have bothered a young Centaur.

"Please!" interrupted Dumbledore. "This dispute is fruitless and unbecoming. Bane, I truly believe that you should reconsider your position."

"You are no more welcome than he is old man," shot back the Centaur. "What is your business in here?" He stepped menacingly toward the wizard but stopped when Fawkes let out a shrill cry and batted his wing in front of him.

"How dare you say this!" screamed Firenze. "Flitz would be dead if not for the Headmaster and the Bird of Fire."

"Was that the price for selling our secrets?" said Bane. "I -"

"_Silencio_" said Dumbledore softly, and Bane suddenly found that he had no voice. The wizard smiled apologetically.

"Forgive me, Bane, we really need to talk, but I am very much afraid that you will not listen well if I let you continue. You might even say regrettable things."

Bane looked back furiously at Dumbledore's gentle face. _The old monkey dared use magic on me!_ He would have trampled him, but that damned bird of his would surely prevent it, and who knew what the wizard was capable of? He turned toward Lyman for support but the old Centaur was looking at him with an unmistakably disapproving expression. This stopped him. The leader of the Herd could not go against the declared opposition of one such as the Herd Mentor.

Bane closed his mouth, stepped back and crossed his arms angrily. He glared, waiting for them to state their case.

Dumbledore retraced how he and Firenze had sensed the danger to Flitz and decided to intervene.

"And I wish it to be extremely clear, that Firenze came to help us only for the teaching of general mundane matters. He has not revealed any hidden knowledge, and we have not asked him to." He held Bane's gaze. "That was the basis of our agreement, and it has been kept scrupulously."

Bane scowled and looked at Firenze who ignored him. The Centaur reached out and stroked his son's mane affectionately.

"To think that I missed your time of First Stone. I would have so much liked to be there."

Flitz smiled back.

"It was wonderful father. The Pure One spoke in my head ... he showed pictures."

Firenze looked up in surprise and turned toward Lyman and Bane. Dumbledore tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible, but he kept his ears wide open.

"A Pure One came at his Ritual?" Who was it?"

"It was Laurell," said Lyman.

"Himself! Do you realized what this means?"

"I don't understand," asked Flitz. "Who is Laurell?"

"He is one of the oldest of the Pure Ones, and one of the most revered," replied Lyman. "It is a great blessing, and a great honor, that he was there." The old Centaur showed a rare smile of appreciation. "And from what happened here tonight, I must say that you truly deserved it. We will tell many stories of the brave Centaur who fought valiantly and did not let go of his bow in the face of death." He lowered his head in respect and Flitz beamed with pride and happiness.

The Herd Mentor turned toward Bane.

"Herd Master you have asked for my advice and here it is. The facts are clear to my eyes, and so are the Signs. Firenze should be allowed back in the Herd. I will bear witness that his actions were honorable, and that his son deserves to have a father at his side. Troubled times are coming and we do not need to fight among ourselves."

He lowered his head and addressed Firenze without looking at him.

"Forgive me, Firenze, for not protecting your blood. I have failed you both, and I will understand if you wish to continue the instruction of your son yourself. I may have lost your trust, but the youth is destined for great things, and I will still help him as much as I can."

He started to move away sadly. Dumbledore, who knew better than anyone what the old teacher must be feeling, would have liked to intervene, but he knew that it would be a grave mistake to meddle in their affairs, and so he stayed silent.

"Master no!" cried out Flitz, getting up and rushing toward the Herd Mentor. "I want you to stay." He turned toward Firenze. "Father, please tell him. He cared for me ... better than anyone."

Firenze was already regretting his harsh words, all the more since he now owned the old Centaur the right to return to his beloved Forest.

"Lyman, my old friend, it is I who should ask for forgiveness. I offer my thanks for what you have done. You have my trust, and I would be proud to see you continue with your teaching."

He looked at Dumbledore.

"I do not think that you need me anymore, Headmaster. Do I have the permission to leave your service?"

"You have my friend, and I will be ever thankful for your help."

Everyone turned toward Bane who was getting more restless every minute that passed. He gestured impatiently to Dumbledore.

"_Finite Incantanum_," he murmured with a discrete gesture, giving the Centaur leader an apologetic smile.

"Hum!" said Bane, shaking his mane and looking at them with a furious scowl on his face. It would be an understatement to say that he was not pleased with what had happened, but he was also aware of what little he could do to change it.

"Headmaster," he said coldly.

"Yes Herd Leader?" replied Dumbledore politely, reminding him of their respective responsibilities.

"Tonight, you have heard many things which no humans should know about." There was a hint of menace in the Centaur's words. The Headmaster was powerful, but some secrets would be defended at all costs.

"You know that I will not abuse that privilege, and that you can count on my discretion," said Dumbledore. "I will tell no one." He did not offer to Obliviate himself. He wasn't sure that the Centaur understood that it could be done. Besides he was fascinated by what he had learned.

Bane was still frowning, but he didn't press for more, and they might actually need the wizard's help again one day. He turned toward the three Centaurs and fixed Firenze.

"I heed the words of the Herd Mentor. You may rejoin the Herd." Flitz brightened, and Firenze nodded curtly. Bane gestured toward the remains of the golem.

"Lyman, I charge you to look into this matter. If a new menace is rising then we need to be prepared."

"Perhaps I can help you with that?" proposed Dumbledore hopefully.

Bane looked at him. He weighted the risks against the gains. There were too many unknowns. He trusted Dumbledore, up to a point, but he also knew that he didn't speak for all humans.

"No, we will handle this our way."

The Headmaster didn't press the matter. Should the prickly creatures change their minds, they would know how to contact him. He bid them goodnight, winked at Flitz who smiled back at him, and went away, followed by Fawkes.


	17. Chapter 16 Order of Merlin

_We're back to Hogwarts for a moment, The Avengers will make a new friend and the plot of the Brotherhood thickens._

* * *

**_Chapter 16 – Order of Merlin_**

_Hogwarts,_

The new school term had started with a definite return to normalcy. It was as if the teachers took deliberate pain to treat them as mere students once again, as if nothing exceptional had happened in the last year and a half. The most important subject was classes, homework, and for those concerned: OWLs and NEWTs. Few rebelled against this. It was actually a reassuring development after all. A sign that the deadly menace they had lived under was truly gone.

The relations between the Houses were still excellent, but the traditional competition between Gryffindor and Slytherin for the House Cup, and especially the Quidditch Cup, was reasserting itself. Ron was determined to win it once more, and he drove the Gryffindor team mercilessly. He urged Harry to practice his Seeker skill as much as he could, and even McGonagall made a number of pointed remarks on how she was counting on them.

On the first day, Draco took aside Wilhelm Dalmy, the seventh year Slytherin captain, to explain the new situation and make sure that he understood the stakes. The older boy looked at the determined prefect with some surprise. Draco hadn't shown much interest in Quidditch during the first term, but now, he sounded as obsessed as a Weasley.

"You're the captain, not me, so I'm letting you handle the rest of the team. I expect you to hold out your own score-wise _and_ to help me catch the Snitch before Harry."

Wilhelm was unsure about what he meant by that exactly. In the old days, they would have used all possible dirty tricks against the Gryffindors, but at the start of year Draco had specifically insisted that they 'play fair' and win on merit. Then again, his girl was a Chaser in the opposing team. How would he react if she was taken out with a vicious Bludger?

"How rough do you want to play it?" he asked carefully.

Draco frowned, annoyed at having to explain everything.

"No fouls, but don't pull any punches either. This is a game I don't want us to lose, or to be disqualified for."

The other boy grimaced. _That's easy for him to say. As if there was a clear line between hard play and foul._

"Okay. We'll try our best," he said.

"No," replied Draco in a hard voice. "You'll do your best, and then some more. Just like I will."

Wilhelm looked back with anger in his eyes._ You arrogant prick! All right, we'll do our damnest, but if you don't catch the bloody Snitch then, head prefect or not, I won't let you tell me my job ever again. _

Draco returned his stare without flinching. _Good. He's angry and that will make him work the team harder. _He left the room, making a mental note to have a separate word with Vincent and Gregory. The two big boys would need special coaching as usual.

- - -

Amid the new order of things at Hogwarts, the change in professor Snape's potion classes was the most troubling of all. His remarks were as scathing as ever when gross manipulation mistakes were made, but he now took a much closer interest in the characteristics of any failed brews, and he would ask the strangest questions about what the pupil was actually thinking at the time. He would press on and dismiss any lies or evasion, until the wretched victim was finally made to confess the usually embarrassing truth. Ron was thus several times forced to admit to thinking about his girlfriend, or Quidditch practice. Harry was reminded of his old Occlumency lesson with the professor. He didn't think that Snape was using Legimency, he wasn't actually casting any spell at least, but it was troubling nonetheless. Whatever the method, or the reason for this new behavior, the end result was even more humiliating than his old insults, even if he only took out a fair amount of points for every error.

"Brewing a potion is not a mindless activity," Snape often would repeat. "Just as what happens when you use your wand, the thoughts in your mind are as important as the gestures that you make."

This was something that he had never told them before. It was first met with widespread skepticism until Neville decided, with Hermione's help, to give it a real try. Potions had never been an easy subject for him, even when he took pain to do everything as perfectly as possible. If professor Snape's new theory was true, then one possible explanation could be his permanent fear of failure and admonishment. It took several tries but a definite improvement was finally seen. It got Neville his first ever gain of points for Gryffindor in potions. Professor Snape looked visibly pleased, which everyone found even more remarkable than the actual knowledge demonstrated.

Not everybody was happy however. Ron was more annoyed than ever because it meant that he couldn't even afford to daydream in class again.

"I think I liked it better when he was just a nasty git," he said, grumbling as they left the classroom.

"What are you saying?" exclaimed Hermione. "That was the best potion class we ever had. It must be the result of the work he did with Helen. It's brilliant."

"Maybe," replied Ron, "But at least, he was staying out of our heads before. Now we don't even have any privacy anymore."

"I don't see what the problem is," she replied. "All you have to do is think about potions when you're brewing one. It's not that difficult."

"For you it isn't. My mind doesn't work that way."

"Sometimes, I think your mind doesn't work at all," she retorted.

Ron looked at Harry for support but his friend laughed and made a slashing gesture, followed by the symbolic rolling of a head on the ground, indicating who had won the argument in his opinion.

- - -

Hagrid was going to Beauxbaton. The news was now official and he was being replaced by a new professor, a witch named Tilly McMurphy. They would share the class for a couple of weeks and then the big man would be gone. Physically, she looked a little like professor Sprouts, with the same outdoor friendly face, and a straightforward attitude in practical matters. Like Hagrid, she didn't hesitate to get her hands dirty and handle the most repugnant of animals. However, she was much closer to professor McGonagall when it came to discipline. The opinions of the students were mixed. She was certainly a more structured teacher than Hagrid, but she was anything but amusing, and her sense of humor had yet to be seen.

On the second day of the term, as the first year class was finishing, the students were surprised to see the Headmaster coming down toward the big man's hut, next to where the Care Of Magical Creature lessons still took place. Professor Dumbledore greeted everybody pleasantly and took Hagrid aside for a talk. The two men went into the hut for privacy, but Richard, Silena and Alicia couldn't resist the chance to sneak in on their conversation. They gathered their books and moved discreetly behind the house, stopping just under the window sill. The panes were opened despite the winter cold, and they could hear perfectly everything that was said inside.

"Rubeus, I have a small favor to ask of you."

"Anything yeh need, Headmaster," replied Hagrid with deference. "How about a hot cup of tea?"

"No thank you, Rubeus, however ... I might let myself be tempted by a spoonful of honey." Cutlery sounds were heard, followed by a sigh of pleasure. "Ah, thank you. Delicious as usual. Those fairy-bees of yours are simply wonderful. Now where was I? Ah yes. Are you aware that Firenze has gone back to the Forest?"

"I dinna know that!" exclaimed the big man. "I'd noticed that he wasn't visible 'em last days, but I had no idea ... Did they take him back?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes they did. I was actually present at the time, and Bane was convinced to accept him. A most felicitous outcome, even if our four legged friends are still very uptight about interacting with humans. That is the reason for my presence. Could I count on you to return to Firenze those things which he left in his rooms?"

"Certainly, Headmaster. No trouble at all. I'll be back with yeh ter get the stuff, an' then I'll get on with it this mornin'."

"Good, good. That will be fine then, many thanks."

"Fancy another spoon of honey, sir?"

"I really shouldn't, but I suppose it can't really do any harm. Ah, thank you." The three friends grinned at each other as they pictured the old professor indulging in his widely known vice. When they heard the two men leaving the hut, they moved away and immediately started whispering among themselves.

"What rotten luck," said Richard. "I was so much hoping to get lessons from a Centaur."

"This could be the last chance to see him," pondered Alicia. The beginning of a plan was slowly forming in her head.

"What do you mean?"

"We don't have any classes for the next hour. Why don't we give Hagrid a hand in moving professor Firenze's things, and then go with him into the Forest?"

"Are you mad?" exclaimed Richard. "This is the _Forbidden Forest_ we're talking about. It's the most dangerous place around here!"

She didn't look daunted.

"Come on. Many people tried it, and nobody ever got hurt in years. What's more, if Hagrid is with us, we won't be in any danger at all."

The two Slytherins reluctantly agreed that if the gamekeeper could be convinced, then it would be worth a try. The question remained of how to make him accept their presence.

"Better not ask him straight away," proposed Richard. "Alicia you talk to him first. Offer to help him carry some stuff, then when we're outside the school, Silena, you'll ask if we can go with him."

"Why me?" asked Silena.

"Because he's big and you're small and cute," he said very seriously.

"Well thanks for the compliment," said Alicia, outraged "What am I then?"

"She's smaller than you," he replied, wisely leaving aside the matter of which girl was cutest. "Come on, this is just tactics," he added impatiently.

Alicia stuck out her tongue at him, but she didn't make an issue of it. They ran back to the castle, to find Hagrid lugging a large chest and various assorted luggage.

"Hagrid! Can we help you?" called out Alicia.

"Well, look who's here. Aren't yeh supposed ter be in classes?" he asked with a friendly smile.

The big man was very popular with most young students, especially the ones from Muggle backgrounds, who always felt a little isolated in the beginning. He could empathize with that more than any teacher, and he certainly wasn't stuffy about rules or decorum. Outside of classes, no one ever called him 'professor Hagrid', and he was always ready to discuss magical lore and animals with anyone. He also had a special soft place in his hearts for Gryffindors, and he and Alicia had gotten very well along from the start.

"We don't have any right now. Do you want us to put a levitation spell of that?" she said, indicating the heavy chest.

Hagrid looked at it and fingered his umbrella. He wasn't allowed to do magic, although he did it often when no one was looking. Then again, he wasn't very good at charms. He usually made things explode more often than not.

"Er, I Don't see why not. Yea, might be a good idea." The chest wasn't as sturdy as a human one. It was mostly a big animal skin bag reinforced with sticks.

"_Locomotor trunk!_"

The container floated gently in the air. This was really the best of spell when moving out luggage. It was too bad that the under-age limitation restricted it at home. Hagrid attached a piece of rope to one handle and took the rest of the bags in one big hand. They proceeded toward the limits of the Forest. Just as they were getting there, Silena used her most charming voice to ask him the loaded question.

"Hagrid, can we go into the Forest with you?"

"What? Oh no, yer can't. Strictly off limits, it is." He was adamant.

"Hagrid please," said Alicia. "We'll stay real close to you."

"I've never spoken with a Centaur," added Silena in a plaintive voice," and now that professor Firenze won't be coming back, and since you'll be leaving to, I may not get the chance before a long time."

"Now listen-" he began in a firm voice.

"It's true Hagrid," said Richard very seriously. "I don't think that professor McMurphy will ever show us really interesting creatures like you do. We may never see another Centaur again."

"But-"

"You're our last hope Hagrid," pleaded Alicia, batting her eyelashes.

They could see that his resolve was weakening. It was not their feeble arguments which won him over so much as their evident desire to see the Forest. It took a few more minutes, but he finally gave in. Actually he sympathized with them, and he did fear that his successor would limit herself to a conservative teaching of his favorite subject. _Probably won't teach 'em anything that couldn't be gotten from books._ So in the end, he allowed them to follow him, provided that they keep it a secret, and promise not to stray away.

They marched into the woods to a spot where Hagrid stopped. Placing his hands around his mouth, he let out a long cooing howl. All the forest sounds around them stopped. He did it once again and turned his head to look around.

"And now what?" whispered Alicia.

"Now we wait. Firenze should come presently. Now since yeh're here to learn, let me explain to yeh how to greet him."

He gave them a quick course in the appropriate etiquette, stressing the need not to ask inquisitive questions.

"They're very touchy about their secrets, so mind yer manners."

They didn't have to wait long. Little more than a minute later, there was the sound of rustling leaves and two Centaurs advanced toward them. Richard recognized the former professor. The other figure was much smaller, and he realized that it was a child. His mane and skin were much lighter in color, and he carried a small pouch on a string around his neck. Both had bows and quivers full of arrows.

"That's Flitz," said Hagrid to them. "Firenze's son. I remember him when he was no bigger than a puppy."

"Blessings to you, Hagrid," called out Firenze. He considered the three children and frowned. Flitz stared with unabashed curiosity. The older Centaur was surprised when, taking their lead after Hagrid, Richard and the two girls greeted them using the proper address.

"They've been helping me carry yer things," explained Hagrid with a big smile.

Firenze acknowledged this and inclined his head toward the trio in thanks. He and Hagrid moved aside to discuss something out of their hearing, leaving the four youths together. Flitz supposed that they shared the same privileged access of the Forest that was Hagrid's, and therefore that the usual warnings about keeping away from humans didn't apply to them.

"What is your name?" he asked in a friendly manner. He was a little taller than them, but not by much. Actually their age was about the same when adjusted for the difference in species.

"I'm Richard, that's Alicia, my sister, and this is Silena," replied Richard. "We're students at the school."

"Are you wizards?" he said with some concern. He looked at his father in alarm, but Firenze acted as if there was nothing threatening.

"Well, yes," answered Alicia. "Is that a problem?"

Flitz grimaced and shrugged.

"I don't know. I was told to stay away from your kind." He looked closely at them and took in the wands they were holding in their hand, pointed downward. Alicia noticed his glance and stored her wand in a pocket. The two others did the same.

"Funny that you should say that. We were warned not to go into the Forest." She giggled. "It's supposed to be full of dangerous animals and things."

The young Centaur smiled at that, and then he thought about his encounter of not so long ago and reflected that there was certainly some truth in that.

"Is that a real bow?" asked Richard, pointing toward the one on the young Centaur's back.

"Of course," Flitz replied proudly. "I made it myself."

"Do you hunt with it?" asked Silena.

"Yes. I even killed a demon with it two days ago."

"A demon?"

He showed them the talon finger which he kept in his pouch, and now always carried around his neck as a reminder of his first battle.

"A stone thing which attacked me. I was wounded and the one who is your _master of head_, came and healed me."

"The Headmaster?"

"Yes."

Flitz gave them a short account of what had happened, not thinking for a minute that it could be sensitive information. The three students didn't think much of it either. Magical beasts or demons, it was all part of their world and they were too young to understand the important differences. They continued to exchange stories about bits and pieces of their respective lives, each finding the other's world fascinating, if very strange. After a while Richard looked at his watch and realized that they would have to go back, if they didn't want to miss the next class.

"We've got to be going. It was nice meeting you."

"Yes. Will you be coming back?"

"We'd like to, but we're not allowed to go into the forest by ourselves, and Hagrid will be going away." Richard made a helpless gesture. "Could you come near to the school?"

Flitz grimaced and replied that this was forbidden to him as well. Once again he looked at his father. He could ask, but he knew that it was a delicate subject.

"Could we meet at the Forest's edge?" proposed Alicia. "After nightfall, so no one would see us?"

Flitz agreed, and they determined that they would try to be at the limit of the Forest, near Hagrid's hut, in two days. The Centaur gave them a time based on what the stars would look like, but it didn't mean anything to them. Richard tried to explain the concept of dividing the day into twenty four hours but that was just as alien to the Centaur. In the end he gave his new friend his watch, and drew him a picture of what the timepiece would show at 10 PM. Flitz looked at the object with interest.

"Is that a wizard thing?" he asked.

"No. It's a Muggle watch. It's mechanical." As he looked at it again he saw that the next class had already started, and that they were surely going to get into trouble. "We'll explain it to you next time, all right?"

"Yes." He placed it inside his pouch. "Next time I will bring you something."

Richard held out his hand to the young Centaur who looked curiously at it. The human custom of shaking hands was explained, there was no equivalent among Centaurs. Flitz thought it another strange thing about his new friends, but he didn't see anything wrong with it. He shook hands with each, a little awkwardly.

It took some more time to get Hagrid to take them back to the school. They were indeed very late for their next class, and it cost Gryffindor ten points and Slytherin twenty. They were lucky not to get detention as well, but professor Flitwick was in a good mood.

In any case, they felt that it had been worth it to find another friend.

- - -

_Auror Academy,_

The big day finally arrived. The Order of Merlin ceremony was planned for the evening. Among the students. Only the Six would be going. The Ministry had initially wanted to invite everyone, but Dumbledore had vetoed it because it would be too much of a distraction. Actually the Headmaster wasn't happy at all with Fudge's latest initiative, all the more so that he couldn't really express it in public. After all what could be more normal than to promote Arthur Weasley.

_Except that he did not consult me, and he lied about it._

So Dumbledore said nothing but his unusual unhappy expression caused several whispered remarks among his entourage.

The Auror Academy was a fortified mansion lost in the Scottish highlands. It was smaller than Hogwarts, and not as spectacular. Otherwise its isolation served the same purpose. To train young wizards and witches in a quiet environment. The guests Apparated in the courtyard and were led inside by the Auror trainees. The actual ceremony would take place in the Hall of Honor, a large and imposing room decorated by the usual medieval weaponry and several paintings of famous Aurors, all dressed in tartans and kilts. Harry was surprised to discover that the Aurors official uniforms were based on the traditional Scottish dress code, and included bagpipes as well. He was still trying to get the image of Mad Eye Moody, in a kilt and playing the pipes, out of his mind.

There was a great deal of people, all dressed up in fine and extravagant robes. Harry recognized several whom he had met at the Ministry or from the Order. Everyone applauded as the six of them entered the hall.

Electra moved silently among the many guests, taking care not to attract attention. Undisguised, she was a strikingly beautiful woman, and she usually played on her considerable charisma and power to captivate and influence others. A witch of fifty five, she barely looked thirty and few men, be they wizards or Muggles, would let her pass by without at least following her with their eyes. More so here because very few people knew her. She rarely came to England, preferring to stay in her native Austria.

Tonight however, she had dressed and arranged herself so as to be as unremarkable as possible. She planned to stay in the background and keep away from the more popular guests. Today was not a time to display her charms, but an occasion to use her other, less visible, talents.

Hermione Granger felt the first signs of unease when she saw the impressive assembly of wizards and witches waiting for them. It was much more civilized than the popular welcome that they had received at the train station, but somehow it was also more imposing for her.

She looked around and saw that her friends didn't seem to share her nervousness, except maybe for Harry. Analyzing this, she reasoned that it had to be something cultural. Draco and even Ron were being honored by their peers, and they expected it. Once again, she was made aware that they naturally belonged in this world while she was a still newcomer. Harry probably felt like her, but he was the only one who did not realize that nobody disputed his position anymore.

She understood that she would not face simple folks who just wanted to acclaim the heroes of the day. These were important peoples, and they evidently considered themselves superior to most others. It showed in their attitudes, and in the magnificent clothes, jewels and elaborate accessories. This was the hard core of the wizard world. They had come to judge as much as to honor.

_How many out there are thinking 'Mudblood' when they look at me? Or who simply put me up as Harry Potter's girl? _

It was probably ridiculous but she imagined these thoughts behind the sea of faces. Her hand reached out and squeezed Harry's. He looked at her and smiled reassuringly.

Severus did not feel uneasy at all, at least no more than he usually did in such large company. In fact he was looking forward to seeing some of the people he had already met at the Parkinsons. Professor Boocrat for instance was a highly respected scholar, and he had a lot of influence in the Ministry Department of Mysteries. Severus walked in with confidence and nodded at and greeted politely those he knew. He was relaxing in the company of one the Academy professors, the conversation alternating between the DADA NEWT curriculum and some specialized usage of potions, when he recognized a familiar figure coming into the room with the Weasleys.

_Helen! What is she doing here?_

She saw him as well and waved from across the hall. As soon as he decently could, he disengaged from his conversation partner and walked toward her. She did the same and they met in the middle of the room.

"Good evening, Severus."

"What-" He caught himself. "Good evening, Helen. What are you doing here?"

"Harry and Hermione told me about this. The Weasleys brought me along." She frowned. "Aren't you happy to see me?"

"Yes, I-" He tried to analyze what he was feeling. He was glad to see her certainly, but he was also reticent to do so in this company.

_What's the matter Severus? Are you ashamed that your new relations will see you with a Muggle?_

That was certainly present in his mind at some level. Such prejudice had after all been ingrained in him by his education, independently of his intellectual position about the subject. He saw Helen's face twist into a frown, and a sudden guilt filled him.

"I am very happy to see you again Helen," he said gently, holding out firmly to the thought. "I am just surprised, that is all."

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" she replied. "You could have invited me yourself." He could sense a hint of hurt in her voice. He grimaced and waved at the rest of the audience.

"I didn't think you'd be interested," he tried to sound nonchalant. "It is not a school matter after all."

"Severus," she replied seriously. "I'm not just interested in the school, or in the children. I came to see you. To see my friend honored."

Her words touched him, and he was surprised at his reaction. This and the lingering sense of guilt made him even more uncomfortable. He would have normally dismissed the matter with a gruff comment but he couldn't do that anymore. He remembered their last meeting, and the strange, curiously pleasant moment of vulnerability they had shared. In a rare moment of empathy, he found that really didn't want her to feel hurt.

"I am truly sorry, Helen," he said lamely. "Please believe that I am glad that you are here." He tried to put the truth of these words into a smile. It must have been somewhat successful because she smiled back and touched his arm briefly.

"It's all right. No harm done." She winked, her cheerful nature coming back. "So you're a hero too?"

He rolled his eyes.

"I guess so."

"Good for you then." A near movement caught their eyes and they turned toward the source as Dumbledore joined them.

"Mrs. Parker, I believe," said the Headmaster pleasantly. "We have never met, but I am delighted to make your acquaintance." He took her hand and kissed it with old-fashioned decorum. Severus realized that it was his role to make to introduction.

"Helen, this is Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts," he said. "Sir." He shrugged. "You have indeed recognized Helen Parker, with whom I have had the pleasure to work recently."

"Very happy to meet you Headmaster. Alicia and Richard have told me a lot about you. They are very enthusiastic about the school."

"I am truly glad to hear that, Mrs. Parker. I seem to recall that they are doing rather well." He turned toward Severus, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I have followed with great interest what the two of you have discovered together. I anticipate huge benefits from it, and I congratulate you both for such brilliant cooperation."

The words of praise made Severus more proud than many things he had done, especially so since several people around them had been discretely following their conversation. They would wonder what it was about exactly, but they would not forget that the most powerful wizard of the age, and one of the most knowledgeable, had paid Severus Snape and his unknown companion, a most eloquent compliment. Words of this would get around and it would do no harm. He did not imagine any other meanings in the old man's words.

The Headmaster stayed with them a little more and when he left, Severus thought that, all things considered, Helen's presence was a very good thing, and when he looked at her, and at the happiness on her face, he found that it wasn't just because of his rising reputation.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"With pleasure."

Electra was carefully sounding out the emotional atmosphere of the room, giving it her total attention. Outwardly, she was talking with her pre-arranged companion, a junior member of the Brotherhood who had no idea who she was, and whose mission was to guarantee her cover. The poor man was close enough to her to be aware of some of her very real charms, and he babbled stupidly about every subject he could think of, desperately trying to elicit a response from her. She ignored him and widened her mental probes. She had to be very cautious. Many people in this room were adept at Legimency. One was a true Empath, although an inexperienced one, and then there was Albus Dumbledore, whom she hated but who was never to be underestimated.

The first order of business was therefore mental camouflage. She began to play upon the weakest persons in the room. Shrummer had compiled for her an extensive catalogue of the rivalries of many of them, and she was now amplifying them subtly, by undetectable increments, playing her victims against each other. While doing this she kept her eyes on Luna Lovegood, using her as a measurement of her success. The Scholar had explained the blind spots of an Empath, and it did not fail. The young girl's expression got noticeably dreamy as she isolated herself from the charged emotional environment. The heart of Electra's companion quickened when she flashed a sudden smile, but it wasn't directed at him. She prepared herself for more precise tinkering.

Fudge's speech, and the ones that followed, did nothing to allay Hermione's reservations. The many references to 'the tradition of fine wizard lines' and 'the spirit of our founders' were followed by much more enthusiastic clapping than when Dumbledore praised the spirit of cooperation among the school Houses and the diversity of the students. She also sensed an indistinct hostility in the overall atmosphere and it bothered her. She stole a quick glance at Luna, who would surely be aware of anything abnormal, but her friend only showed a peaceful expression. For a while she told herself that she was seeing things, although as time passed she felt it ever more, and her discomfort mounted.

The Order of Merlin was a great big gold medal, evidently enchanted since it radiated multicolored lights. She thought it was the gaudiest thing she had ever seen, but she wasn't surprised since she had long since remarked that discretion and finesse was not the most evident quality of wizards. One had only to look at the way they dressed.

Professor Snape and Harry were the last to go. Harry showed a boyish smile while Snape tried hard not to look too smug. Fudge was as expansive as ever as he slipped the ribbon around his neck.

"I recall promising you this some years ago professor," said the Minister. "Better late than never, hey?"

Harry looked stricken. That occasion had been when Snape had almost 'arrested' Sirius Black, just before he and Hermione had saved him. How could the man have the gall to say such a thing? He felt a blind rage engulf him and the medal lurched wildly, jerking from Fudge's hands and banging painfully on his forearm. Realizing where he was, Harry made a tremendous effort to control himself.

Snape's face was unreadable, but his voice was chilling.

"I would rather say, better in a good cause than for a mistake, Minister."

Fudge's expression fell as he realized his blunder. He cast a fearful glance at Harry and saw the white fury on the boy's face.

"Hum... Oh yes, quite so... Hum. Much more proper this way, certainly."

Hermione was outraged. _This oaf did not even remember that he signed the order restoring Sirius' innocence_._ How can we expect anything right to be done when someone like that is in charge?_

For his part Fudge looked completely lost.

_Great Merlin! What possessed me to say such a thing?_

He knew that he needed the support of the boy and of his friends. That kind of remark could well spell his undoing. He looked timidly at Dumbledore and cringed as he saw the hard stare on the man's face.

No one else in the audience seemed to have noticed exactly what had happened, but they could all feel the sudden increase in tension. Electra looked away and smiled again. This miserable excuse for a Minister was so easy to manipulate. That last had been a masterstroke: his position would now be even more vulnerable, the Headmaster would be on him like a hound, and the Granger girl would probably not stop seething until the end of the ceremony.

Fudge's final, half incoherent speech was hurriedly delivered to a room buzzing with whispered conversation. The chief of protocol attempted to repair the situation in the only way he could think of, by accelerating the distribution of food and drink to everyone. Electra watched as the Weasley family regrouped, and as another one of her agents skillfully guided Sir Comil toward them. She moved closer to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"Miss Weasley, let me offer my most heartfelt congratulations," said the broom maker with a wide smile.

Ginny turned around and spotted the man and his wife. Greetings were exchanged, and Sir Comil's jolly banter soon dispelled the bitter impression of the past minutes. The conversation revolved about Quidditch of course, and it soon turned around to the coming school match.

"You do remember that the game is planned in two weeks' time, sir?" pointed out Draco, ignoring the hard stares from Ginny and Ron. He didn't say anymore but he was evidently wondering when his promised broom would be available. Sir Comil was reassuring.

"Just a little delay," he replied, raising his hand. "Nothing has changed and you will receive it before the end of the week." He smiled genially. "My best people have been tuning it up like a fine instrument. You will not be disappointed."

Electra had been informed of the arrangement, and she had also noted the Weasley family's passionate history with the game. She herself did not care a wit for such childish activity, but she had been quick to see how to use it for her purpose, especially since the Weasley boy had been telling reporters that he was hesitating between pursuing his career as an Auror or as Quidditch player.

_Let me help you choose._

"You know sir," said Ron, "this is going to be a great publicity stunt for Nimbus Flyware."

"Well I certainly hope so," said the man happily.

"I mean," continued Ron, "your latest broom against the best Seeker in a century." He gave Draco a sly look and ignored the returned scowl. "Everyone will be watching this."

"But the match can also be won by overwhelming scoring," objected Comil.

"Not this time," countered the young man, warming up to the argument. He gave a short and concise description of the two team's strengths and weaknesses and concluded. "This game will be decided by the Seekers, and it's been arranged to be as spectacular as possible. Whether or not Slytherin or Gryffindor wins, everyone is going to watch their every move."

Sir Comil nodded. The boy knew what he was talking about, and he certainly had a good sense of the game. By experience he could tell the true fanatics from the mere enthusiasts. An idea came into his mind. He did not even suspect it wasn't entirely his.

"I think I agree with you, young man. But you know. It might be just a beginning," he said with a measuring stare.

Ron sensed something was coming. Ginny looked sharply at the man.

"Yes?"

"I cannot do anything for the coming game, but something tells me that you will keep on playing yourself." Ron nodded vigorously. The man turned toward Draco. "While you, I think, are mostly anxious to prove a point. You are not planning to make a career in Quidditch?" Draco acknowledged the fact cautiously. "I thought as much." Sir Comil turned back toward Ron and considered him attentively. "Well, in that case Mister Weasley, would you consider continuing the promotion of our product line?"

Ron tried not to show how eager he was.

"Why not?" he replied. He affected a nonchalant shrug, but his eyes were shining like stars.

_The boy is certainly not as talented when it comes to negotiation, _thought Comil.

"Of course I wouldn't want you to be distracted from your studies," he said thoughtfully. "Perhaps this is something we should talk about after your graduation?"

"No!" A look of panic came across Ron's features. Who could say what anybody would remember in two years time? Ginny couldn't suppress a giggle at her brother's embarrassment. "I mean, now is a really good time but-"

"Oh, come on Ron, you're hopeless," she interrupted. She turned a serious face toward the older man. "Sir Comil. Will you please allow me to speak on his behalf?"

"Well, well. Would you be his agent then?" asked Comil, barely concealing his amusement.

"I would," she replied seriously. Ron scowled furiously but he did not correct her.

They moved away from the crowd to continue the discussion in private. Electra only stayed in listening range long enough to make sure that things were moving along properly. Looking around, she saw that Draco was now firmly in hand with Shrummer and Trevor, and that Potter and Granger were standing slightly apart from the rest. The girl had a hard stubborn look on her face, and he was speaking quietly to her. It wouldn't do at all for them to get a proper grip on the situation, but she couldn't risk intervening directly. Young as they were, they had shown exceptional talents and they had been trained in the mental arts by masters. If any of them discovered her manipulations, all would be lost. Thankfully there were other ways.

"Let it go Mione," said Harry. "He's a jerk but we knew it before." He reached out to caress her arm gently. She didn't let herself be placated.

"It's not just that. This whole thing is ... repellent. Most of these people are just a bunch of snobs." She was as agitated as he'd ever seen her. "They're a perfect illustration of what's wrong with this world."

At that point a group of people, led a woman, approached them, and more specifically Harry, while Dumbledore did the same, coming from the other side.

"You are likely correct, Miss Granger, but you will not change it in a day, or even a year," whispered the Headmaster.

"Good evening Mister Potter," said the leading woman with some awkwardness. "Oh Merlin, you really look so much like him." she exclaimed.

"Uh?" said Harry turning around. The woman was dressed in the same tartan and kilt uniform as the other Aurors. She looked to be in her thirties, not very tall, and with a bright eager face. The rest of the group was dressed the same, but they were much younger.

"Please allow me to present myself. I'm Emily Tumbles, section leader at the Academy," she turned toward the others, "and these are my charges. Headmaster Dumbledore, Miss Granger. Very pleased to meet you."

Hermione returned the greeting and considered her critically.

"You're a instructor here," she stated.

"That is correct." She turned toward Harry, looking raptly at his face. Hermione was already beginning to dislike her. "I knew your father very well. We were in the same class."

Harry practically turned his back on Hermione and Dumbledore as he began to press her for details. The Auror trainees listened in silent fascination as Emily recounted some anecdotes. It developed that James Potter had made an interesting reputation for himself here as well.

"Would you like to visit the school? I could show you your father's old room," she proposed.

Harry barely took leave of the others as he followed the Aurors into the building.

"Well that was to be expected I guess," Hermione muttered to herself. "The hero worshiping goes on, and I get left standing there." She turned toward Dumbledore who was looking at her with some concern. "Please forgive my bad humor, Headmaster. I suppose I should be grateful for what I have and patient for the rest?"

He nodded gravely.

"You have said it most aptly, my dear. I am afraid that patience is indeed the most necessary of things right now."

"But-"

"Please excuse me, Hermione," he interrupted. His gaze fixed on a point behind her shoulder. "We will talk about this later, but right now, there is someone else I must see."

He moved away and she saw him make a bee line toward the Minister. She returned to her silent simmering when Draco and Ginny joined her, accompanied by a big, portly man and a young, very handsome wizard.

"Hermione, this is Lord Shrummer and Trevor Themis, which I've told you about," said Draco. "Sir, this is Hermione Granger."

She turned toward the two men. In her present state of mind, Themis displayed what she took as the phony smile of a con man, and Shrummer seemed full of his own importance. She greeted them politely, reminding herself that this was important.

"So, I finally get to meet the brightest student of Hogwarts," said Shrummer with a tone she found a little condescending. What could she reply to that? "Your reputation is quite remarkable."

_For a Muggle born you mean, I'm sure,_ she thought.

"You are too kind, my lord," she replied noncommittally.

"I give credit as it is due," he said. "You should be proud of what you have done. Our community needs champions like you six. Such talents and strengths are the pillars on which we stand."

Despite the implied compliment, the words irked her. Her response was automatic.

"Pardon me sir," she said in her precise, let-me-tell-you voice, "but I always thought that decent laws and democratic institutions were the proper foundations for a just society." He chuckled and gave her a superior smile. She saw the amusement in Themis' eyes and it made her even angrier.

"You are young enough to say this, and in truth I commend you," he replied. "Principles are indeed important, but few institutions are perfect. Most are only as good as the peoples who lead them."

She thought it was a crass and cynical remark, but she held her tongue. Next to her Draco was nodding in approval, and she didn't want to make a scene in front of her friends.

"Don't you fear that giving the leaders too much power can lead to problems?" she asked. It was Themis who replied.

"Ah but that is why we have organizations such as the Wizengamot, where decisions are taken in consensus. Certainly, a tyrant is never a good thing."

_No, but an oligarchy, and a quasi hereditary one at that, is not much better._

They talked a little more, but it was all she could do to remain polite. Curiously, no one reacted to her manifest disapproval. It was as if they were ignoring her opinion, even Draco. Only Ginny was giving her a strange look. Mercifully, another guest addressed Lord Shrummer and engaged him in a new conversation. She left as soon as she could, and went to the bar to get something to eat. She was still thinking dark thoughts when she felt another presence closing in.

"Hi there," said Helen.

"Uh? Oh, hello Helen," replied Hermione, the remains of a scowl still on her face.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes," she shook her head. "I'm just annoyed about some things. Stupid really."

Helen looked sympathetic but didn't press for more details. Hermione tried to put her mind away from the previous unpleasantness. She was listening to her friend's small talk, when she caught sight of Amelia Bones. She remembered that the woman was considered one of the most fair minded among the Ministry officials and a sudden idea came into her head.

"Helen, are you still serious about your Muggle parents association?"

"Of course," she replied with a puzzled expression. "Why do you ask?"

"Because there is someone we could talk to about it, and about FOM as well." She pointed toward the broad, square-jawed witch. "What do you say to a little sales pitch?"

Helen looked in the direction she indicated. It was the first time she had ever seen a woman wear a monocle, and the rest of her appearance was not reassuring.

"She doesn't look very friendly."

"Harry said good things about her, and I know her niece well. I'm willing to give it a try."

Helen gestured for her to go on and the two of them converged on the formidable looking witch who was apparently finishing a conversation with another wizard.

"Mrs. Bones?" asked Hermione politely. "Excuse us, but could we have a moment of your time?"

Amelia Bones turned a severe face to them. She relaxed visibly as she recognized Hermione.

"Miss Granger. By all means, I have been meaning to thank you for your role in that DA group of yours last year. Susan told me that she owes you half of her OWL grade. What can I do for you?"

Hermione introduced Helen and briefly described their plans. She was careful to say that Dumbledore had worked on the bylaws with them, passing over the fact that the idea of a Muggle parent association had never been considered at the time. She didn't think it would be a problem.

Bones listened carefully, and her eyes narrowed when the Headmaster was mentioned. She asked a number of questions to both of them and pondered silently the answers. She took note of Helen's family name, but if she remembered any aspects of the Parker case, she showed no sign of it.

"This is interesting," she finally said. "I would like to read your documents and take the time to think some more about it."

"I'll send you a copy first thing in the morning," promised Hermione, unable to mask her excitement at finding a sympathetic audience. Bones looked at her closely with a very serious face.

"You are really worked up about this," she finally said in a quiet voice.

Hermione was ready to reply immediately that of course she was, but the attitude of the older witch made her think it out carefully. Amelia Bones was reacting very positively but the Ministry official was also treating the subject as something more important than expected. After all, it was just another association. Hermione began to wonder if she had made a mistake in coming to her.

"I feel this is important," she finally said. "There's nothing wrong with it I hope?"

Bones' expression didn't change and continued to look at the young woman. After a moment she turned her head and looked at where the Minister was standing, talking with a group of other wizards, Lord Shrummer among them. She paused, as if pondering a deep problem, and then she turned back toward the two women.

"There's nothing wrong with students, or even parents, starting such an association," she said, "because it won't get anywhere." Hermione looked shocked. "How far would you be ready to take this project?" continued the older witch.

"I don't think I completely understand," said Hermione cautiously. Actually she suspected where Bones was going, but her instincts told her to be prudent.

"You want this to work?"

"Yes of course." _What a stupid question!_

Bones looked at her again.

"This is not the proper time to discuss it," she finally said in a firm voice. "Send me your documents and I will contact you when something can be done."

Hermione wanted to pursue the matter, but she could see that the other witch would not commit to anything more at that time. She acquiesced and was rewarded with a serious nod in return.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Bones. I will do that."

The older woman excused herself and took her leave. Hermione and Helen looked at each other, unsure of what to make of the conversation. Helen proposed that they go back to the others. Hermione was thoughtful and as they moved along, she caught sign of Draco and Ginny in an animated discussion with Trevor Themis. They looked perfectly at ease, smiling and chuckling together, and it bothered her as she recalled the unpleasant encounter with him and Shrummer. She could not shake a looming sense of dread, and she wondered where all this was going.

She was still distracted when Harry came back from his guided tour. He had such a happy face that she forgave him his desertion. The rest of the evening was subdued as each of them kept to their private thoughts. They didn't stay very much longer in any case since the teachers insisted that everybody returned to the school for a proper night's sleep.

- - -

_Somewhere,_

The room was once again lighted by seven bursts of flames. This time, no insect or small animal was victimized. The remaining creatures had learned the lesson, or perhaps there weren't any left in the area.

"Give me your reports," asked Electra curtly.

"The first action regarding the Camelot Circle was a complete success," said Alan Boocrat. "It will now only require an extended majority voting of the Wizengamot to secure ownership of the grounds."

"Can we hope for that to happen soon?" asked the youngest wizard.

"No. It is still too early. Too many questions would be asked," replied Electra.

According to the statutes of that organization, such a majority was set at three quarters of the votes. They could only hope to convince so many members if there was a real situation of emergency, and if the possession of the castle could be presented as a potential solution. This was further complicated by the fact that as far they knew, no other members of the Wizengamot knew about the Circles.

"Then why did we do it?"

"We needed to weaken the compact before the matter could even be considered," answered Boocrat.

A magical contract affected the very minds of those engaged by it. The agreement between the Centaurs and the Founders was no exception. The Brotherhood rituals enabled them to work against it, but most wizards would automatically be prompted to defend it. Even Lord Shrummer, since he was a member of one of the signatory organizations, could not have gone with them into Camelot. The wards would have killed him. Only now, would he be able to lead the Wizengamot into a vote.

"Our work also allows us to preempt any reaction from the Centaurs," added Electra, turning toward the man on her left "What about the Goblins?"

"The new assignment of Arthur Weasley as Head the Goblin liaison office has been confirmed," said Thelas in an even, almost bored, voice.

"Did you get any feedback from your contacts at Gringotts?" asked Shrummer.

"Yes. They are taking it as a gesture of goodwill for now, as you intended no doubt."

"As _we_ intended," corrected Electra. "That is good. They may relax their vigilance, and their future reaction should be that much more explosive. In the meantime, nothing should be done to antagonize them." She turned toward Shrummer "How did your discussion with Malfoy and Weasley go?"

"They have not changed their position. They are still ready to work with us, and they believe the others will follow."

"Even the Granger girl?"

"She is certainly not convinced yet, but I trust the others to allay her suspicions for the moment."

"Suspicions?" asked Thelas with a frown. "What does she suspect?"

"Nothing." Shrummer shrugged. "She's a mudblood, and she has these silly ideas about our customs."

"And it is a very good thing that she has them," added Boocrat. "In fact, her opinions will prove to be the very flaw from which we will shatter their unity."

"Ah," said Shrummer, sudden understanding visible on his face. He looked at Electra with renewed respect. "So that is your idea to deal with them." Electra and Alan had not gone into the full details of their complex plan. Up to now the council had been concentrating on what they had called the 'Camelot Gambit'.

"I hope we can trust you to make your move as dramatically as possible," asked Electra.

"It will be a masterpiece," replied the portly wizard with a grand gesture. "The girl has already contacted Amelia Bones." He exploded into laughter. "Imagine that. Each of them the bait to lead to other into the same trap. Truly, this is beauty." He bowed toward Electra. Most of the others were smiling.

Thelas listened to them and felt a deep misgiving. The plan was perhaps brilliant, but it was leading them to disregard all precautions. For the first time, most of the Brotherhood inner circle had acted in the open, working directly instead of using expendable proxies. Soon they would actually do so together. It was reckless behavior, and contrary to every principle that the organization had followed for centuries.

_And she's the cause of this. She's seduced them with the promise of the ultimate goal, and now that they've glimpsed it, they can't think about anything else. This is madness._

He couldn't even speak out against it. All he could offer was a conservative strategy of securing their position and advancing cautiously, which they would not accept now. He would have gone along with the separate plan of neutralizing the six upstarts. He agreed that they were a real threat, but to try for a complete and immediate victory however, that was something else again.

The meeting ended, and each of them went back to their private homes. For him it was large and well furnished London penthouse with a spectacular view over the City. He poured himself a glass of old malt and walked to the large window bay to look outside.

Even in the middle of the night, several lights burned inside the tall, modern office buildings. Signs that the financial activities never stopped. This was his hunting ground. He was the latest in a family deeply involved into the borderline economy between the wizard and the Muggle worlds. It had made his fortune and that of his partners, be they wizards, Muggles or Goblins. As he looked at the city lights, he thought about the wealth that they had accumulated over the years. It was far more important to him than the potential power of ancient magic. He actually believed that Merlin and the Founders had been right to hide the secrets of the Circles. It would be better if nobody ever found them. Such power was too disruptive, and bad for business.

_Still, better that we, rather than others, control it._

Good and well if they succeeded, but what would happen if they failed?

_I could lose it all. The prestige, the money, my life even._

He took a sip of his drink, the strong liquor warming his mouth. There was not much he could do. Even if he wanted to, betrayal was not an option. He was committed to help the Brotherhood and to assist in the plan approved by the council. The rituals held him in their vice.

_Damn that woman!_


	18. Chapter 17 Quidditch

_My first ever Quidditch match description. What can I say? ... action._

* * *

**_Chapter 17 - Quidditch_**

_Hogwarts,_

"Yours is exactly the kind of arrogant attitude that needs to be changed," said Hermione to the sullen faced boy. His robes identified him as a Ravenclaw, and the quality of the cloth, and some discrete jewelry marked him as coming from a wealthy family. It was plain that he was more angry than repentant, but few younger students had the guts to stand up to the Gryffindor prefect.

Ron rolled his eyes, and Draco sighed loudly, while Harry wished, for the umpteenth time, that his girlfriend would learn not to overhear some things. They couldn't even interfere directly because it was a prefect matter. Hermione had just caught some spoiled fifth year boast that his parents had promised him a personal House Elf if he did well on his OWLs. The boy had gotten a lecture on the merit of academic excellence, and the need to show proper respect toward magical minorities.

Such a reaction from Hermione, with Draco or Ron being the most recurrent targets, had happened before, but it had become much more frequent in the last few days, and when she wasn't hell bent on reforming everyone, she would be withdrawn and lost in her thoughts. It was the most visible demonstration that the easygoing harmony they had shared during the vacation had all but disappeared. Harry didn't think that Hermione was still incensed about what had happened at the Auror ceremony, but she had told him about sending the FOM documents to Bones, and he guessed that part of her problem was that no answer was coming back, and she was worried. In the beginning, he had endeavored to be as accommodating as possible, but nothing seemed to soothe her, and she reacted angrily to any suggestion that she should take things less at heart. Now he would just try to wait it out.

Most of their disagreements concerned the future of the association and what Draco and Ginny's friends could be planning to do with the Ministry. Draco was usually willing to debate, if only to hone his own skills and arguments, but it generally turned into a dialogue of the deaf as Hermione would presuppose a moral stand and refuse most utilitarian compromises. At that point, Ron or Ginny would lose patience and let go of some remark which would break up the discussion in disarray. Luna was watching all this with sadness, but she didn't attempt to take a direct part in their exchanges, which she found too brutal and frustrating.

Politics wasn't the only subject which set their nerves on edge. In addition to the increased amount of classes, and the coming OWLs for Ginny and Luna, the Quidditch Cup was another cause for tension. In the week before the game, both teams trained assiduously. The atmosphere was electric and there were a number of serious clashes concerning the right of access to the Quidditch practice. Ron accused the Slytherins of hogging the terrain and restricting Gryffindor's training time. The Slytherins in turn claimed that the other Houses were trying to spy on them. Everybody wanted to see Draco's broom but he refused to have any witnesses present, outside of his team, when he was flying it. In the end, Dumbledore agreed to place a full shielding screen over the field, and a strict timetable was drawn up. Exceptionally, homework was reduced to a minimum - actually it was rescheduled for the next week - so that the players wouldn't have to choose between working or practicing. If that had been the case, the teachers hadn't much doubt about what the choice would be.

Harry, Ron and Ginny also discussed endlessly the probable characteristics of the new broom, and how they could hope to counter it.

"It's going to be a special Seeker model," said Ron. "That means speed or maneuverability, probably both."

"What could be the downside for that?" asked Ginny. She had warned Draco not to speak a word about it until after the match. She would play this one strictly for Gryffindor, and likewise, tell him nothing about their plans. It made for some awkward moments, but that was the price to pay for being on opposite sides, and they knew it was only temporary.

"Reduced resistance and stability I guess. It might be a very light broom." He looked at Harry. "At high speed, it could mean less control, and he would also be vulnerable at close range."

"You mean that if I crash against him, I can throw him off course?" said Harry.

"Yeah but that's a foul, and you don't want that. I was thinking more of close hazing, or a Bludger. If we can hit him with one, he'll be toast." Ginny shot him a hard look, and he raised his hand to stop her. "Hey, it's part of the game okay? You think that they're not going to aim for Harry?"

It was plain that she didn't like it. She made a face but finally let it go. Broken bones could be repaired, and permanent injuries were rare in school games. Still, she hoped it wouldn't go too far.

"I think I've got an idea," said Harry, "but we're going to have to practice it." He turned toward Ginny. "Here's what we're going to do. You take my broom and I'll use yours. It should give you a comparable edge to what I'll be facing during the match. Now the idea I have ..."

He explained what he had in mind, and Ron's face lit up. Even Ginny had to smile as she visualized the maneuver. Yes, it would be a nice counter against Draco's secret weapon, and pretty spectacular too.

The evening before the game, Hermione was in a fouler mood than usual, and Harry didn't want to go back to the common room. She would certainly have gone up to her dormitory, while Ginny and Ron would be half angry and half apologetic. It had happened enough before, and he was sick and tired of it. Instead, he walked down along the corridors thinking about how stupid it all was. Wishing for things to be different made him think of a particular place, and an interesting idea came into his mind.

Retracing his steps, he walked up to the entrance of the Room of requirement, stopped and closed his eyes in concentration, thinking as clearly as he could on what he wanted. When it seemed right he opened the door and nodded approvingly at the sight before him.

_I don't know who of the Four conceived that room, but he certainly knew his stuff._

He corrected himself. Maybe it had been one of the witches. Rowena Ravenclaw was a good candidate for such a clever creation. It didn't matter. The room was now enormous and completely featureless, except for a Golden Snitch flying around in the vast space. The walls were of a dull grey color, and the small ball was perfectly visible wherever it went. It was buzzing furiously, trying to find places to hide, but there weren't any. Finding it would be easy enough, but that wasn't his purpose this time, at least not with his eyes. Harry cast a silencing charm in the room and the buzzing sound disappeared. He closed his eyes again and voided his mind of any thoughts.

He didn't know if it could work, but he remembered reading that Roderick Plumpton, one of the most famous Seeker of all time, had shown in his later years an uncanny ability to divine where the Snitch was before anybody else could see it. He had been so successful that the International Quidditch Federation had banned him from all competition, when his team started to win every game in less than a few minutes.

The Snitch was temper proof, but what if there really was a way to detect it? He was determined to try. In tomorrow's match, the odds were pretty much balanced. The slightest advantage could make the difference between victory and defeat, hence this unusual experiment.

Eyes closed, he pictured the little golden ball in his mind. He concentrated on every distinctive aspects of it. The shape and color, its sculptured surface, the vibrating wings. He did this for a moment then, changing his mental focus, he considered the space around him. He imagined himself as a compass needle floating in the air, the center of a reference system. In his mind, the world was organized into Front, Back, Right and Left. He alternated between the two mental attitudes, consciously trying to bring them together and divine where the Snitch could be relative to him, but he felt nothing special.

_There's got to be a way to do this._

Of course he had never tried anything comparable before. He was simply hoping that it would just work out, like well magic. He realized that he should have known better. There was logic and knowledge even in such things. Hermione, or Dumbledore could have helped him, but both of them would certainly refuse to do so, it was clearly cheating after all. He was beginning to think it was a fool's errand when, with a sudden insight, he recalled the _Point me_ spell. It was the closest kind of magic to what he was trying to do, maybe it could help. He concentrated on silently speaking the actual incantation in his mind.

_Point me ... point me ..._

After a while, he could feel a vague pull in one direction. By default the spell aligned a wizard's wand to the north. He turned toward the pull and opened his eyes. He was now facing one of the walls. A quick glance showed him where the door was, and if he had any doubt, a large red and white compass needle was displayed on the floor, compliment of the Room answering to his desire. With a rush of excitement he realized that he had effectively aligned himself with the magnetic north.

_It's working! At least I'll be able to find my way without a wand again. Now all I need is to use the Snitch as a target._

He could also see the golden speck, flying across the room, stopping in place for a few seconds, then darting away again. He closed his eyes once again and this time he adjusted the _Point me_ spell to refer to the Snitch. It was illegal to use a wand in Quidditch, it was listed as one of the possible fouls, but nothing was said about wandless magic.

Nothing happened for a while, until he got a very subtle tug on his left. He tried to concentrate on it, but it quickly disappeared. Then later, he got another tug, this time behind him.

_It's moving and stopping. I can probably only sense it when it's immobile._

He waited for the next tug and immediately turned and opened his eyes. The fluttering ball was right in front of him. A shiver of excitation ran through him as he realized that he had done it. He had found a way to detect the Snitch without his eyes.

He tried it several times more and found that it did indeed work pretty well, although not systematically. He would have to see how it worked on the field, but he now had an edge which could help him win tomorrow. Harry briefly wondered if it also meant that he would probably never be able to play as Seeker again. It certainly would be the case if his secret was found out, but he felt it was safe enough. He would only use it this one time, and he could always play Chaser if it came to that.

He also discovered something else. If he concentrated a little too long upon the ball, it would zip away at such speed that it practically disappeared from his sight. He wondered if it was a defense mechanism, some innate protection against the kind of magic he was using. It was frustrating because it kept him from perfectly pinpointing the direction. In the field it would probably mean that he would have to fly toward it and acquire it by sight. Still, he had something, and maybe he could even find a use for this particular effect.

He came out of the Room of Requirement with a triumphant grin on his face. Draco might have the best broom in the world, but now he had something up his sleeve as well.

- - -

The game was scheduled in the early afternoon. Words had gotten out, probably by Sir Comil's doing, and the VIP stand was packed full with outside visitors. It was a tight fit, even with a special enlargement spell. Severus had made good on his promise, and he had collected Helen from London. She remembered the basic of Floo travel, although as a Muggle, she still required someone to accompany her. Richard and Alicia were happy to see her, even if they were much more excited by the coming match. Both of them had turned into broom enthusiasts, and they were impatient to be in second year so that they could participate in the tryouts.

The teams gathered in their respective lockers. The Slytherin players were looking expectantly at Draco, any lingering thoughts of rivalry displaced by the overriding sense of solidarity which came before any game. Wilhelm had done a good job, and they were all keyed up and ready to give everything to wrestle the Cup from the Gryffindors. All of them had seen Draco demonstrate some impressive maneuvers with his new broom. He still didn't control it as well as he could, but there was no doubt that it would be the fastest thing on the field today. It didn't have an official name but they had taken to calling it the Firestreak because, at full power, it actually left a visible contrail-like trace in the air.

In the Gryffindor locker, the players were even more nervous. They were the incumbent after all, and they would be facing an unknown quantity. The only thing they could be sure of was that the Slytherins would not give them any break. To make matters worse, several experienced players had left, Angelina, Fred and George in particular. Ron knew that good Beaters where the best possible support for Harry. They would have to make do with Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke who had been on the team for some time, but who were not in their class. In addition to Angelina, he also had to replace Alicia Spinnet as Chaser. They now had Ginny and Katie Bell and a promising, but still inexperienced, third year as Chasers.

Harry had a determined expression on his face as he adjusted his heavy padded robe. He made sure that all straps were tight, but that he could still move properly. When it was done, he started to do some stretches.

"Harry?" He turned around and saw Ginny sitting on the bench across from him. Her face was serious, almost grim.

"Yeah?"

"I know you want to win but ... please be careful."

"For me or for him?" he replied with a feral grin.

"For both." He started to protest but she cut him off. "I mean it. Don't try to pull something too dangerous if ..."

"... we're losing," he finished. She nodded. He made a carefree gesture. "Come on. It's a just a game."

"That's right Harry," she said seriously. "It's just a game, and both of you are more important than any game. Just keep it in mind."

He looked at her, touched by her concern. She'd been bothered by the arguments of the last days. She and Hermione had once been very close, but since the start of the term, they'd been drifting away from each other because of this. He stood up and walked toward her. She rose as well, and he placed his hand against her neck.

"Don't worry about it, little sister," he whispered. "It's going to be all right."

She pressed her face against his hand and nodded. He gave her a quick pat and pulled away.

"Let's get on with it," he said. "I'm counting on you to beat your scoring record. You're a good Chaser. Make us proud."

She gave him a brave little smile. He gripped her hand, cross fashion like warriors, or sportsmen, did in the movies. Her smile strengthened into something more cheerful. She lifted her new broom, Draco's old one, and they took their place with the rest of the team. Harry moved next to Ron and winked at his friend.

"Harry," said Ron under his breath. "You remember what Oliver used to say?"

"'Catch the Snitch or die trying'," replied Harry, grinning. "Yeah, I remember it pretty well."

"Well," Ron stole a quick glance at Ginny. He'd followed their conversation. "I'm not going to say it, but -"

"Don't worry mate," said Harry calmly. "I have a good feeling about this one."

Ron looked at him, swallowed and nodded. Then he remembered that he was the captain. He turned toward the rest of the team.

"Okay guys, er, and girls. I just want to tell you that, well, this is an important match and, uh, I'm really counting on you." He thought he saw an expression of disgust on Kirke's face, and he hated himself for being so lame with his speeches. _Dammit! Harry was lame too in the beginning but he learned. I'll learn, even if it kills me._

He turned away from looking at Kirke. The older boy still hadn't forgiven the power play at the start of the year. He glanced at Harry who gave him back a confident smile. I made him feel better and he went on with a more determined voice.

"Outside that door everyone will be looking at us. Gryffindor House will be looking at us. Let's play our best. We did some good training together. Just remember the moves we practiced. We can do this people!"

He saw resolve on their faces, and he hoped some of it came from his words. Raising his arm, he held his broom high.

"We won the last game. We can win again today. WHAT DO YOU SAY?"

They cheered, even Kirke, and he was relieved. He looked at each of them in turn, doing his best to pump them full of the energy he was feeling. The bell rang, and they got ready to mount their brooms. The doors opened, making them blink as the light of day momentarily blinded them. The Gryffindors flew out in formation, welcomed by the cheering of the crowd. They made a full turn of the field and took their position on their starting side. Dennis Creevey was giving the running commentary while his brother was juggling with cameras and Omniculars to follow and capture the action.

"And Gryffindor is flying out now," said Dennis as excitedly as usual. "Merlin, they're beautiful if you'll allow me to say so. It's a great sunny day, with the best weather we could hope for, except for the cold of course. You'd think that they could put a warming charm on these seats, most of us are freezing their-" he broke off as McGonagall threw him a warning look, "- ah, extremities. Anyway, here we have Ronald Weasley, the Gryffindor Keeper leading his team around the stadium." He gave the name and position of every member, his voice rising as he saved the Seeker for last.

"... and finally Harry Potter as Seeker, riding his famed Firebolt. Both of them will be taxed to the limit today as you must all now."

The second bell rang and the doors of the other team's locker opened as the green and silver formation flew out.

"And here comes Slytherin! They're led by Wilhelm Dalmy and, like every last one of you, I've been dying to see that mysterious new broom that their Seeker, Draco Malfoy, will be using for the first time. It's supposed to be the latest model from Nimbus Flyware, and you may have noticed that Sir Comil himself has made the trip to see it in action. Welcome among us Sir, and our heartfelt thanks for giving us this fantastic opportunity."

Slytherin was making its first turn when Draco separated from the group and took the broom into a steep climbing trajectory across the length of the field. He shot up with an incredible acceleration and made an inverted loop above them before coming down. The crowd gasped in surprise and delight at the impressive maneuver. A thin contrail marked his path and left an upside down tear drop shape in the air. He rejoined his team under the wild cheering and enthusiastic clapping of the spectators. Sir Comil looked delighted.

"Did you see THAT!" screamed Dennis. "Oh Merlin, did you see that, boys and girls? What a broom! I'm telling you that we're going to see a fantastic game today, and even though Harry Potter has the most impressive Snitch catching record in Hogwarts memory, he's going to have a tough time beating that!"

Ron and Harry looked at each other and certainly agreed with that assertion. Draco's broom made the Firebolt look positively sluggish. Ron swallowed a lump and tried to look more confident than he felt. Harry was staring hard at Draco, and at how he was controlling his new ride. He was determined to find, and profit from, any flaw he could find.

Madam Hooch signaled the Captains to come to her, and the rest of the players took their positions. Ron saw that Wilhelm had an infuriating smirk all over his face. He did his best not to look flustered and made a point of touching down slowly and as serenely as he could. The referee made the two boys shake hands, and Ron couldn't help blinking as he saw Draco do another fantastic loop in the air.

"I hope you've polished the Cup properly, Weasley," said the Slytherin. "We want it to look sharp on professor Snape's desk tonight."

"It's not there yet, Dalmy," replied Ron. "And it'll take more than ballerina moves by your pretty boy to take it from us." He wished he felt as assured as his words.

Madam Hooch called them to order. She released the balls and threw the Quaffle in the air.

"And it's started folks," said Dennis talking at full speed. "The Quaffle is for Gryffindor, Ginny Weasley's running on with it. Watch out for that Bludger. Oh, close call that one, but she's coming in for a pass ..."

Draco and Harry had both flown high above the fray and they circled each other warily, watching out for the Snitch and for the other's moves. Draco was not flying very much faster than he was, but Harry saw that the other boy was able to make much sharper turns than him, in addition to that fantastic acceleration.

_Fast and maneuverable. Just like we thought. I bet he could catch up with me in no time if I made a run at the Snitch._

He wanted to get a better feel for the Firestreak's capabilities. The best way for that would be to feint and analyze the response. Draco would expect him to see the Snitch first. It would be a good tactic for the Slytherin to let him flush it out, and then overrun him to catch the prize.

Harry suddenly banked left and aimed at one corner of the field. Dennis' voice picked up in excitement.

"It looks like Harry saw something. He's running fast toward the southeast wall and Draco's in hot pursuit. Oh Merlin! What an acceleration!"

Harry heard the screaming sound of Draco catching up behind him. He deliberately didn't push the Firebolt as fast as he could, so he expected to be bypassed, but the speed with which Draco flew by was incredible. It was clear that if he ever saw the Snitch before Harry, the match would be over without a chance. The other boy pulled up as he approached the wall and saw no trace of his quarry. Harry followed his movements carefully, and he could see that there was a slight wobble as the broom decelerated.

_That's interesting. I bet he's actually handicapped after a fast streak like that._

He was so absorbed by the examination that he almost missed the Bludger coming at him from his right side. A sharp yell from Sloper warned him and he evaded the missile only by a few inches. Both of them moved away and regained altitude. Harry could see Draco throwing him a dark look after that feint.

Harry tried it once more, and this time he managed to get away to a good distance as Draco tried to recover the control of his broom. It made him shiver with excitement. He now had a possible tactic. If he saw the Snitch, he could probably feint away and come back for it before Draco could catch him at it. It was risky, but it could work. He figured that if the Beaters could throw a couple of Bludgers in the other Seeker's direction at the same time, it would be even better. He flew quickly next to Sloper and explained this in a few words. The other boy nodded and went to pass the word on to Kirke.

Harry stabilized his trajectory and attempted the previous night's trance to feel for the Snitch's position. It was much more difficult than in the Room Of Requirement, and during that time he couldn't look at what Draco was doing, so he could only do it for a few seconds.

_I've got to keep him guessing._

The next minutes passed in wild flying as Harry would cruise and feint in several directions. Draco was on him like a fly. Twice, Harry sensed the Snitch and looked for an adequate feint to play, but each time it was too chancy to try. The third time however he took his chance and rushed right over Draco, flying in the opposite direction of the Snitch. The Slytherin Seeker turned around and followed in hot pursuit. Harry had also noted that, even thought the Firestreak was much better than his own broom in level flying or in a climb, the difference was not so pronounced in a dive, where the greater mass of the Firebolt was an advantage for him. When he estimated that Draco was right behind him and he banked brutally and dived straight down, right over the Hufflepuff stands, the other boy followed with some delay, and Harry heard the screams of fright from the students who now saw the two Seekers coming down on them like Stukas. He ignored them and looked hard for the Snitch.

_It should be somewhere to the left._

He tried desperately to find it, but he lost some precious seconds doing this. When he finally saw it, he also heard a triumphant cry from behind him, and he knew that Draco had seen it too. _Damn! Damn!_ Both boys pushed their brooms to the limit, but the Firestreak was gaining, and then they had to pull up to a level flight, which further neutralized what little edge he still had in speed. Draco passed him and extended his hand. The Snitch was less than 15 meters away, and he was closing fast. Harry was horrified at seeing him getting ready to catch it. He remembered what he had discovered the previous night, and he focused of the ball like he had in the Room.

_I see you. I know where you are._

He didn't know if the Snitch could understand but, just before contact, it zipped to the side and the other boy missed it by an inch. A tremendous scream of frustration rose from the ranks of the Slytherins. Draco did an incredible short skidding turn and tried to follow it, with Harry right behind, but the Snitch was now nowhere to be found, and they had to accept that the golden ball had successfully escaped.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Dennis was standing up and exulting in the mike, "I can't believe it, but the race is still on! Draco almost had it in his hand, and the devilish Snitch jumped away like a demon possessed thing. But we've seen how fantastic that Firestreak is. It's not a broom, ladies and gentlemen, it's a bloody rocket!"

"Language, Mister Creevey," snapped McGonagall.

"Sorry professor. I got carried away, but surely anybody would at seeing such magnificent flying."

The rest of the players had not been idle. Katie Bell and Ginny had taken the Quaffle and with a blindingly fast set of passes they traversed the ranks of the Slytherin defense, which had relaxed their vigilance during Draco's missed attempt, and Katie scored once more. It was now 40 to 20 for Gryffindor.

Draco was trembling with rage and frustration, but he forced himself to think clearly. He had figured out Harry's tactic by now, and he understood that he could not let it continue. He was tiring fast, these lightning accelerations were murder on his arm muscles, and it was getting more and more difficult to control the broom afterwards.

_I'll just stay near and behind and follow him wherever he goes. One thing he can't do is escape me._

That would allow him to rest and concentrate on finding the cursed Snitch. He did this, and Harry soon found that it was quite effective. Not only was it very unsettling, but whenever he attempted a change of direction, Draco would catch up in a second, and from behind him, he could see everywhere he could.

Harry tried several desperate maneuvers to shake him, which drew screams of fear and delight from the spectators, but Draco was able to use his superior characteristics to match him move for move. Worse, the Gryffindor beaters couldn't even help him anymore because they had as much chance to hit him as the other Seeker. Ron ordered them to concentrate on the Slytherin Chasers and Keeper. The game was once more played on two independent levels, scoring and seeking.

Ginny had the Quaffle once more and found her path blocked by Goyle who was getting ready to beat a Bludger right at her. Fortunately, Ron had imagined a neat trick for just that situation. She threw the Quaffle at the Slytherin just as the Bludger was coming. The big boy saw the two missiles coming up toward him, and his limited mind overloaded while he pondered what to do. In automatic reflex, he batted away at the larger ball, just when the smaller, and heavier, one caught him in the stomach.

"Umph!" he said as he doubled over and lost interest in the game for a while. Katie recovered the Quaffle and flew toward the goals.

"That must have hurt," said Dennis, with no trace of sympathy in his voice. "Great play by Katie Bell, she feints and - score!" He screamed. "It's now 50 to 20 for Gryffindor."

For a time, all the action was for the Chasers, Beaters and Keepers. Gryffindor was scoring well at first, but Slytherin gradually began to catch up. Time was running against the former as their younger Chasers were tiring faster that the older Slytherins, and Harry was still effectively trapped by Draco.

The score ran on to a 110 - 110 tie. Ginny had the Quaffle once again and passed it to Katie who started another attack run, and then a hard Bludger struck against the center of her broom which broke cleanly in two. The unfortunate Chaser fell down, thankfully not from too high, but Dalmy recovered the Quaffle and profited from a lapse in Ron's attention to score for Slytherin who took the lead, 120 to 110. Exultant shouts rose from the Slytherin ranks and Harry was now seriously worried. With one less Chaser they were not going to hold out for long.

_Time for the trump card._

He had practiced the move with Ginny but it was incredibly delicate. However he thought it was the last chance he had. He waited until he had a good sense of where Draco was exactly, behind him, above and to his left, and then suddenly he banked left and rolled as fast as he could, all the while slowing down and climbing toward the other Seeker.

_Gotcha!_

He was now almost against the other boy, just in front of him and lying on his side, stabilized by the centrifugal force. Draco braked to keep from hitting him, and banked left as well, in an attempt to evade. Normally in such circumstances the two players would fly away from each other so as to recover some freedom of movement, but Harry kept on turning and slowing in front of Draco, forcing him to do the same. The crowd gasped in astonishment as the two brooms danced around each other at full speed.

"What are they doing now?" said Dennis. "Ladies and gentlemen, I told you that this was going to a game to remember, but it's now way over anything in my young but intense experience. Do you see that? I'm queasy just looking at them."

Harry's movement transformed into a corkscrew maneuver which was extremely disorientating, but even more so for the Slytherin. Harry had the initiative, and so he could handle better the wild rotations of the universe around him, Draco had to follow or crash against the other, which would be a foul for him. Suddenly Harry pulled out of the roll and flew away. He immediately tried to detect the Snitch while stabilizing his flight. Draco flew off as well, but almost directly away from him. The two brooms raced away from each other in straight lines as their pilots tried to recover from the murderous merry-go round. Harry turned slowly right and was rewarded by a pull in the general direction of the center of the field. He blinked his eyes and searched desperately for the flash of gold. _There!_ It was right between them, but closer to him. He turned toward it and launched the Firebolt to the maximum it could do.

Draco had seen it as well and was rushing toward Harry and the Snitch at full speed as well. They were flying straight at each other and everybody could see the Snitch right over the field. Screams of horror were heard from a few students, and then many more, as they realized that the two Seekers were heading for a head on collision.

Like Draco, Harry had his arm extended and he thought of only one thing. The Snitch. The danger of hitting his friend was something he pushed out of his mind.

_Nobody plays chicken with a Gryffindor!_

He was going to catch the damn thing or die trying. He didn't even think about causing it to disappear once more. The game would be over in a few seconds and that was that.

Draco was thinking the same thing. He didn't hear Ginny's horrified scream as she realized the inevitable. Actually half the stadium was screaming, while the rest was petrified at the imminent catastrophe. He pushed the Firestreak faster than ever before, he _willed _it to go faster, and then, as if in a dream, he realized that he really was going to reach the Snitch before Harry. He felt the unmistakable contact of the small winged ball against his palm. He closed his hand, and only then did he think about controlling the situation.

It was much too late. The two bodies collided, not quite head on, but Harry's shoulder struck against Draco's side with the full force of their combined speed. Draco's world went dark for a second and when he recovered consciousness, his chest was on fire and the world was rotating strangely around him. It took him a moment to understand that he was falling through the air, still holding the Snitch in one hand. He looked at it and smiled. He'd done it. He'd finally caught the bloody thing. That was when he realized that his broom was nowhere to be seen.

Harry barely managed to stay on the Firebolt. His arm felt like it was dislocated, and one thing was sure, he hadn't caught the Snitch. He looked behind him and he saw Draco cartwheeling in one direction, his broom flying away in another. His heart stopped beating as he realized what was happening. They where very high, and Draco was going to kill himself. He didn't stop to think and pure reflex turned his flight toward a point below his friend's fall. For one horrible moment he knew that he was going to miss him. He was too far away, and there was no chance of reaching him before he could hit the ground. That thought was unbearable and he screamed in rage and frustration until he suddenly realized what he could do.

"_ACCIO DRACO!_"

The other boy jerked as if pulled by a giant invisible string. Harry felt it as well, and they rushed toward each other once more, but this time to relative safety. Once again they collided, but less violently and Draco managed to hang on to Harry's broom and the two of them descended, more or gracefully, downward.

Harry dropped on his knees, the wind had been knocked out of him, and his arm and shoulder were screaming in pain. Draco was lying on his back, his teeth clenched against the agony of his broken ribs, but he still had the Snitch in his hand. Peoples were running toward them, screaming and cheering, someone asked for the infirmary. Overhead the booming voice of Dennis was calling out the final score.

"And Draco catches the Snitch giving the game to Slytherin with a score of 270 to 110 for Gryffindor. Damn it, but that was the most harrowing catch I ever saw. Colin, I bloody hope that you've caught it on film or else I'm going to skin you alive -"

"MISTER CREEVEY, CHECK YOUR LANGUAGE!" yelled McGonagall.

"Draco! Harry! You stupid bunch of gits," screamed Hermione as she reached them, the relief at seeing them safe turning into fury at what they had done. "That was the most stupid thing ever."

Neither boy replied, both were still catching their breath, and trying to control their pain. Harry wondered if he was going to faint or be sick first. More anxious faces came, but it was difficult to understand what they were saying. His last vision was the Snitch in Draco's hand, and his last thought was that they had lost. He had tried but failed.

Severus had been running like the others, with Helen on his heels, toward the spot where the two Seekers had touched down. He was both elated by the success of his team, the Cup was a good as theirs after this last match, baring an incredible catch up by the other teams in the remaining matches of the year, and angry that once again, Draco and Harry had shown such irresponsible behavior. They could very well have ended up severely injured or even killed.

Looking at them, in their pitiful state, he couldn't bring himself to vent his feelings. Harry was lying unconscious on the ground, and Draco was in no better shape, and of course, he remembered his own role in raising the stakes for this competition. At that point, his anger turned to uncomfortable guilt as he saw Hermione raise her eyes toward him. She had certainly been told what had happened at the Parkinsons. She held his gaze and nothing was said, but he could sense that she was a hair's breadth away from accusing him of edging them on.

Madam Pomfrey finished hovering around the two boys who were now floating gently toward the infirmary. She was mumbling something about having already prepared Potter's bed that morning, and it being a fast tiring routine for her.

The rest of them were moving back the castle as well, and he was left standing there with Helen. When they were alone, he breathed a deep sigh.

"That looked a little more dangerous than usual," she said. She looked at him. "Are you all right?"

He shook his head in disgust.

"I need a drink," he said. He made an effort to put the game out of his mind, and he looked at her. Showing her around would be much more pleasant than ruminating about things that couldn't be changed. "Have you ever been to the village nearby?" She shook her head, the only wizard places she had visited had been in London. "I think you will like it, if you don't mind walking a little distance."

He led her along the path down to Hogsmeade, giving her some details of the history of the settlement as they walked. He had been right. Helen immediately loved the place. They walked up to _The Three Broomsticks_, and he spotted an empty table where they sat down.

"Good afternoon professor Snape, Miss," said Madam Rosmerta cheerfully. She gave him a warning stare. "I hope you're not planning a repeat performance of the last time you brought a new friend here." Despite her words, there was a hint of mirth in her eyes.

Helen was startled and frowned at him, but Severus didn't even protest. She'd been ribbing him for that drunk party with Remus even since. That too was getting old.

"Just your standard warm ale please," he said wearily. "What will you have Helen?" She asked for the same and the innkeeper went away.

"What did she meant about a repeat performance?" She couldn't imagine the man doing anything inappropriate. He looked at her and realized that she didn't know the story. She was probably the only person around here who hadn't heard it a dozen times.

"There was another time when I really needed a drink." He shrugged. "Following up a ... reconciliation with Potter and his friends. I brought my own poison and," he made a vague gesture toward the rest of the room, "I guess it left some memories."

Helen thought back on what Harry and Hermione had told her. That was a tale she would have to get from him. _But maybe not right now._

Their drinks arrived and she toasted him.

"To Slytherin's victory," she said. He grunted and started to smile, and then he remembered the ending and his face showed tiredness. He gave her the background on what had been arranged with Sir Comil.

"I made a mistake when I encouraged this. You saw how Miss Granger looked at me. I should have guessed it would turn out that way. To tell you the truth I don't know how to handle these kids anymore."

She looked at him with sympathy. She remembered well enough how dangerous wizard's lives were. They dealt with so much power that accidents were inevitable. At least they were much more resistant to injury than normal humans. _But it's not always enough_. She pushed the thought away from her mind.

"Do you feel that they are your special responsibility?" she asked gently.

He thought about it and shrugged lightly. A few weeks ago, he would have answered yes, even though he was honest enough to admit that it would have been in large part because of their importance in the war. Now he was not so sure.

_They can't be controlled. Why should I burden myself anymore?_

Getting no answer from him, Helen decided to change the subject. She was very happy to have come here. It was much more fun that the Auror Academy.

"Do you want to talk about something else?" He turned toward her and nodded. "Have you been doing anymore work beyond our little experiments?"

This drew a satisfied smile from him.

"Yes. Actually, I am finishing a monograph on the subject, and I plan to submit it to the relevant authorities in a few weeks."

"That's great. I'd love to read it," she answered.

"You will," he said, nodding. "I'm still finishing the first draft." He didn't add that he was also planning to give her due credit, for what it would be worth. She smiled happily at him.

"Severus, it was really nice of you to bring me here."

"It was a pleasure." Certainly he was happy to see her as well. "I don't know when the next event is scheduled, but I will keep you informed."

She considered him for a moment and made a decision.

"How about making the occasion ourselves?" she said.

"What do you mean?" His expression was guarded.

"Would you like to have dinner with me?" she proposed. "At my place?"

She held her breath as she waited for his answer, all the while calling herself stupid for being so unsure of herself, as if it was the first time she'd asked that of another man. He looked back, and she saw the hesitation in him.

Severus considered the young woman in front of him. She was his friend, and it had been a big enough step for him to accept that. He could read where this was probably leading. Nobody, not even he, needed a degree in psychology to understand that. They were both unattached and they appreciated each other's company. Had she been a witch from a respectable family, no matter what the affiliation or the wealth, he would probably have been the first one to propose such a thing.

_But she isn't._

And yet, he was becoming sick and tired of those prejudices. Several times, he had been shaken from such beliefs, by Harry, Granger, Remus, Dumbledore, and now by her. And now he had to admit that there was something rotten with the whole setup. Some arguments still stood. Wizard were much less numerous than Muggles, and secrets had to be kept. They needed the protection of being hidden, and they needed to preserve their society and culture. But it wasn't an easy path.

He was taking so long to answer that Helen was sure that he was going to say no. She had tried to prepare for the worst, but the actual realization of her fears was much harder than she had expected. She could not read his face, but she supposed that he was trying to think of a way to refuse gracefully. She would save him the effort.

"I'll understand if you don't-" she began. Her voice betrayed some of her pain. It made him react immediately. He was surprised at how much her feelings meant for him.

"I would be delighted to, Helen," he said.

She interrupted herself, and once again he saw the joy illuminating her face. It was lovely to watch and he felt a new pang of guilt because that happiness was a reaction to the hurt he had almost caused her. Somewhere in his mind a voice told him that it wasn't logical, but it didn't change what _he_ was feeling.

"How about Thursday night?"

"That would be fine."

Helen knew that she was grinning stupidly, and she took a sip of her drink to mask it, but not even the big mug could hide the brightness of her face. It elicited an unusually kind smile from Severus, and for a moment they didn't say anything. Actually they didn't think of anything but of each other. Both of them were happier that they ever had been in many years. Helen was in love, she knew it without a doubt. Severus didn't know exactly what was happening, and somehow he didn't really want to analyze it, later perhaps. For the present, he just wanted to appreciate the moment.

From the counter, Madam Rosmerta watched them and smiled tenderly. Seeing young lovers was always something which made her day. Most students went over at Puddifoot's for their dates, but she got the serious ones. She had been losing hope about professor Snape, even if he had changed a lot lately. He'd been such a sad man for so long. She was really happy for him, and that young witch looked nice.


	19. Chapter 18 Follow up

_Follow up from the Quidditch match, and from the Order of Merlin ceremony. Bad time for Hermione._

* * *

**_Chapter 18 – Follow up_**

_Hogwarts,_

Harry and Draco had been taken inside the school. Both teams, and most of their friends, including Silena and the Parker twins, had followed them, but everyone had been blocked at the infirmary's door by a determined Madam Pomfrey.

"Stop right there. They'll be all right, unless you lot do your best to keep me from healing them," she said. "Wounded students need calm and rest."

"But can you let us see them when you're done?" asked Ginny, still clothed in her Quidditch uniform. The others, Slytherin and Gryffindors alike, added their voices to hers.

The Healer frowned but relented slightly.

"Maybe, but not before an hour, maybe two," she replied doubtfully. "And if I hear any disturbance during that time, then I'll keep them under lock until tomorrow morning!" With those words, she closed the doors and left the bunch of students waiting outside.

"We might as well get something to eat and come back later," proposed Ron. Hermione, who was still seething, threw him an angry look and went to sit on a bench a few meters away. Ron and most of the others moved toward the Hall. Ginny hesitated and finally decided to sit next to her friend, who ignored her.

"They'll be okay," she said after a moment, in an effort to break the heavy silence. Hermione barely looked at her and didn't answer.

After a long minute of waiting for some kind of response, Ginny finally stood up and walked away. If anybody asked her, she was going to take a shower and come back with something to occupy her. She went up to the girls' dormitory and washed away the grime and sweat of the game. Feeling much better, she took a book she was reading, and after a moment's hesitation, she selected another one. When she came back, Hermione was still sitting silently.

"I brought you this," said the younger girl, placing the second book on the bench between them. Hermione took a look at it, made a face and finally took it.

"Thanks."

"You're welcome," replied Ginny, not raising her head from her reading.

Hermione knew that she should make further amends to make up from her bad humor, but she was still angry, including with Ginny for her part in what had happened, or what she imagined of it. She said nothing and the two of them sat there, with the regular turning of pages as the only sound being heard.

After a while, some of the others came back. All of the players had changed clothes as well, and they talked in low excited voices while they waited for the doors to open. Ginny closed her book and joined them. Hermione tried to continue reading, but their talking kept her from concentrating. She finally gave up, closed her arms against her chest, and stared fixedly at the wall in front of her.

The doors suddenly opened to reveal a frowning Madam Pomfrey who looked at them severely.

"Can we go in now?" asked Silena, in her most innocent voice.

"No more that ten minutes and-"

"No noise, and no excitement," interrupted Ginny. "We promise. Thank you very much Madam."

"Ummphh. I suppose it's all right."

The Healer made way for them to enter, all the while scowling at any whom so much as spoke a little too loudly, or bumped into a chair or an empty bed. No one noticed the magpie perched on one of the window sills. If someone had, he or she would have noted that it was a particularly beautiful bird with very piercing dark eyes. It seemed to take one look inside the dormitory, and then fly off to a side perch, close to the window, but not directly visible from the room's occupants.

Draco and Harry were lying in bed, not far from each other. Draco's chest was completely bandaged but he was evidently in very high spirit. Ginny rushed toward him, and he winced as she embraced him eagerly. Harry had his arm in a sling and looked sheepish, but not too depressed. Losing the game was a bit of a let down, but it was balanced by the fact of having rescued Draco. The victorious Seeker was warmly complimented by the Slytherins, and reluctantly so by Ron.

Draco caught Harry's eyes. He had that annoying smirk of his, but it was mixed with some genuine warmth.

"I guess it had to happen one day, hey?"

"Yeah," said Harry reluctantly. "I guess it had."

"You put up one hell of a fight," added Draco.

"Yeah mate, that was some real fancy flying," confirmed Ron. Harry looked at him and them at the rest of the Gryffindor team.

"Not good enough. Sorry about it, guys," he said.

Ron shrugged. They had lost the game, but Sir Comil had come to cheer him up with a nice word about the team's play, and he had confirmed their accord. Ron was now looking at much bigger things than the school Quidditch Cup.

"Not your fault," he replied. "Anyway once you get a broom like Draco's, I know you'll-"

"He'll probably kill himself, or Draco, just like what almost happened today," interrupted Hermione in a biting and furious voice.

"Hey, Mione," started Harry. He stopped when he saw her face. She was really worked up about this. _Why can't she just let it go?_

"Hermione," said Ginny, trying to be reasonable. "Listen to me-"

"No! You listen! What they did was criminally dangerous. Do you realize that Draco almost," she chocked on the word, "_died!_" She used her anger to recover. "And it could have been you, Harry!"

"Mione ..."

She knew that she was making a stupid scene, but she couldn't help herself.

"Do you ever care about what others think? Do you care about what I think!" she screamed, completely letting go of her feelings. "What do you think it looked like from the stands?"

They stayed silent and did not look at her directly. They were embarrassed by her outburst, but mainly because she was making such a fool of herself.

"So," said Ginny finally, addressing Draco. "What do you think of your new broom?" He grinned back at her.

"It's bloody fantastic, although it can be a bitch to control sometimes." He looked at Harry and Ron. "I can't wait to see what it will be like when both teams have it."

Hermione's anger returned. _They still don't get it. I might just as well have been fiddling for all that I said._ It took a tremendous effort, but she kept her tongue.

"Yeah," replied Ron, "And sir Comil told me he was going to propose it as the official Seeker model for all international competition."

"You talked with him?" asked Katie Bell.

"Too right I did," said Ron with an enormous grin on his face. "He offered me partnership in the promotion business, starting next summer when the new Keeper model will officially come out." The other whistled in appreciation. He looked at them with dreamy eyes. "People, I think I've found my calling."

"Professional Quidditch?" said Kirke, envy written on his face. He briefly wondered if he should have fought harder for the post of Captain.

"Yep."

"I though you wanted to be an Auror?" asked Harry, trying hard not to smile too much at his friend. He expected Ron to be embarrassed, but there was no sign of that on his face.

"Not any more. I'm going to take easy on the NEWTs, and just concentrate on what I really will need: practice. I know how I'm going to earn my keep now." He chuckled at his own joke, and several of the others joined in.

"Completely irresponsible as usual," said Hermione.

Ron turned toward her, surprise and hurt on his face.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked in an exasperated voice, annoyed with her for spoiling the moment.

"Just because someone comes and shows you a stack of Galleons and a broom, you're going to sacrifice your education. I call that irresponsible."

"Well I call what you're saying: sticking your nose in my business," he shot back, bristling. "You're way out of line. I think that I've done my bit to save the world, and that I can choose my own way."

Hermione was surprised at his reaction. He was almost as angry as she herself was a few minutes ago.

"I'm only trying to help you," she protested.

"Well I didn't ask you anything, and I don't make remarks on how you should live your life, so please leave mine alone, Miss Know-it-all Granger."

Ron was incensed and the Weasley temper was really flaring. It was as if all the frustrations caused by her critics of the last five years were finally coming out. He felt totally justified in telling her off. Here he was, after finally finding what he was good at, and with a real future in doing it, and she had the gall to tell him off.

"How can you say that!" she gasped.

"Ron, Mione, take it easy both of you," offered Harry.

"I'm not taking it easy," continued Ron, raising his voice. "I've had it up to here with her thinking that only what she likes is important, and always telling the rest of us what we should do." He turned toward her and pointed his index finger right at her chest. "You like advice? Well here's mine. You get a life and find out what the real wizard world is, outside of books that is."

"Ron-" Harry could sense that this was going to get ugly real fast. He wanted to separate them, but he was hampered by the fact that he was still in bed, and that there were too many people around him.

"What do mean about the real wizard world?" retorted Hermione, scandalized and hurt by the sly remark. "Don't you think I know just what it's like?"

"No you don't. You haven't even lived in it. All you know is what Muggles imagine it is, and what you've read."

She blanched and looked as outraged as if he'd just called her a mudblood. Harry groaned, this was going beyond ugly.

"You're just an inconsiderate bastard!" she screamed in fury, "Just like the rest of them. All you think about is-"

"MISS GRANGER, CONTROL YOURSELF!" interrupted the shattering voice of professor McGonagall.

Hermione stopped immediately. In the following seconds, the only sound to be heard was the angry clacking of the Transfiguration teacher's shoes hitting the floor as she traversed to room toward them. Hermione swallowed nervously and turned slowly around.

"That will be twenty points from Gryffindor for your disgraceful behavior in the infirmary," said McGonagall severely. Hermione winced in shame. "And you will follow me to the Headmaster's office right now," she added.

Hermione gasped, and panic showed in her eyes. The rest of them, including Ron, looked just as stunned.

"The- The Headmaster? But ..." Her anger turned to mortification, and she felt every bit the small errant schoolgirl. Being admonished by a teacher in front of everyone was humiliating enough, especially for a prefect, and most especially for her, but the idea of being sent to the Headmaster in addition, well that was just too horrible to contemplate.

_Oh my God! He's going to take away my badge. I'll never be Head Girl next year. This can't be happening!_

"There is nothing to discuss, Miss Granger. You will please follow me."

With that, the stern teacher turned around and marched firmly out the infirmary. Hermione looked at her with a horrible sinking feeling, but she knew that she had no choice. Head bent, and trembling with shame and shock, she followed her and walked away, oblivious of Harry's look of sympathy. The rest of the students stayed silent and didn't even protest when, a few seconds later, Madam Pomfrey arrived to send them off as well.

After everyone had left, Draco and Harry considered the empty room. Draco breathed a sigh of relief, or of exasperation, while Harry still kept his eyes on the door where he had seen his girlfriend go, as if to her execution. No one saw the magpie fly off.

"Thanks for saving my life," said Draco after a moment. Harry didn't turn his head.

"Nothing for it." An awkward silence followed.

"She'll be okay," said Draco. When Harry didn't reply, he added. "_She's_ not going to get into trouble for blowing her top." The way he said it implied that Hermione would get special treatment. Harry jerked and looked sharply at him.

"I'm worried about her," he said. "She's just not herself lately."

"She doesn't take pressure very well," said Draco, shrugging. He liked the girl, but she really had a real talent for getting on people's nerves. Harry frowned and started to get angry in his turn.

"What do you know of what pressure she's feeling?" he shot back briskly.

"Hey! Don't snap at me. She's my friend too, but honestly. There's nothing serious going on and everybody's treating us like heroes. Why does she get into such fits?"

Harry was really angry now. He was asking himself the same questions actually, but he didn't like the condescending tone of Draco's remarks, and he knew that the others were feeling the same way. Hermione had problems she wasn't talking about, and he remembered well enough what it felt like. Before judging her, he was going to try and talk to her. He got up and started to recover his clothes.

"Where are you going?"

Harry didn't reply, not wanting to get into an argument. He didn't even take the time to dress properly, and just gathered his things and went for the door. Draco looked at him and frowned.

"I don't think Madam Pomfrey will like you leaving like this."

"As if you cared," shot back Harry, slamming the door. Draco was stunned by the sharp rejoinder.

"Hey! That was uncalled for!" he said to an empty room, and then he sighed loudly again.

_The way Hermione's acting, she's going to mess up just about everything and everyone._

He laid back gingerly against his pillow, favoring his still tender ribs. The Healer had set and fixed the bones, but it was always some time before it felt really healed. There was no reason for him to leave his comfortable bed and butt into a matter which really didn't concern him.

- - -

Hermione was following McGonagall, her mind whirling with the possible consequences of what she had done. She couldn't believe that she was being sent to the Headmaster because of what had happened in the infirmary. Once she took the time to think about it, it was clear that such a minor infraction didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

_Professor Dumbledore must have asked to see me beforehand. That's why McGonagall came to the infirmary. She's just trying to scare me by pretending the two things are linked._

The logical reasoning made her feel better, but there was still the question of why the Headmaster would want to see her. What had she done wrong? She knew that she'd gotten into a number of arguments with her friends lately, but that was just student to student matters. That Ravenclaw brat? Did his parents make an official protest? Even if that was the case, she was well within her rights, and she couldn't believe that professor Dumbledore would chew her out for _that_. What else then?

_The last time we talked was after the Auror Ceremony. He'd told me not to get into an uproar about those pureblood idiots, and I didn't. Well not really._

The only thing she had done, which might not please him, was talking to Amelia Bones about FOM. Why would that be wrong? She didn't know, but she felt a cold knot of unease in her stomach at the thought that she just might have been out of line on that one. She tried to remember what the Headmaster had said to them just before the vacations. Had he specifically forbidden such action?

_Whatever he might have implied, this is something _right_. I can't believe we should just let things go, like Fudge and his stooges are doing._

As she walked silently behind McGonagall, she reviewed her arguments so that she would be ready, if that was the reason she'd been called.It helped her harden her resolve, and when they stopped before the gargoyle statue of the Headmaster's office, her face was set in a determined and unrepentant expression. McGonagall turned toward her with a similarly inflexible attitude, and the two looked at each other without blinking for a second.

"Take care what you say, Miss Granger," said the older woman severely. "This is no time for games, and you find that, like me, the Headmaster has little patience for insubordination."

Hermione said nothing but simply stared back at her. The professor finally jerked her head at the gargoyle and spoke the password.

"Cotton candy!" The statue turned upon itself to reveal the stairs.

_What a stupid idea to use such names for passwords. Anybody with half a brain could find it in a few minutes._

She didn't stop to consider the fact that maybe there were other protections for that most holy of places. She nodded curtly at the professor and went up the stair as calmly as she could. McGonagall watched her move away, and when the girl was safely out of sight, a thin smile formed on her lips.

_So much for my little ploy. She doesn't scare easily, bless her. I wonder how Albus is going to fare with her. Good luck to him._

Professor Dumbledore was thinking much the same thing, as he cancelled the spell which gave him a full view of what had been happening outside his office. A submissive and contrite student would give him several options to choose from. It would be a much more comfortable situation than having to confront a hard headed suffragette with a sharp brain ready to fight his every argument.

_Every strength has its price, and pliant tools do not last long._

"Thank you for coming, Miss Granger," he said formally when she reached his inner sanctum.

"At your service, Headmaster," she replied in the same voice. _As if I could have refused the convocation._

He took a parchment from his desk. She noted that there was no chair for her to sit in.

"I asked to see you, because I have received a troubling letter from the Ministry's Head of Law Enforcement." He looked at her with his piercing eyes. "I believe that you talked with Amelia Bones at the Auror Academy?" It was not really a question.

_Oh oh._ She tried not to look flustered as her worst fear was confirmed.

"Yes, sir."

"Can you tell me what the subject of your conversation with her was?" he continued without breaking eye contact. His voice was noticeably colder than usual. She couldn't sense anything, but she imagined his Legimency powers were poised to detect any lie or deception. She understood that being caught in one would considerably weaken her position, so she could only answer the truth, and she did.

"I presented our association, and Helen Parker's idea of a Muggle parents organization, and I asked her if she was interested in helping us." She wanted to stop there, but Dumbledore's eyes were still looking at her and maybe she was imaging things, but they were becoming ever more piercing and bright. "I- I also added that you were favorable to the idea."

"Did you tell that I was favorable to the Association's goals, or to have her actively participating in it?" he said in a tone now devoid of any warmth.

Hermione winced at his words. Having the Headmaster speak to her like that was almost physically painful. She tried to tell herself that he was trying to manipulate her, but it didn't help a lot.

"I didn't say it exactly," she replied in a low voice. She could felt her eyes water and she bit her lip to try and hold on to her control. "I admit that I wanted her to help and that I played on the ambiguity." Strangely, the confession made her feel better and she wondered if Dumbledore was doing something which would feed on her omissions and evasions. Thinking furiously, she made an effort to recall what she had been taught about Legimency, and how to fight against it.

_Maybe I can resist better if I keep to the truth, concentrate on what I believe, and stop pretending I didn't have any special program._

"Professor, I think that something like Fraternity Of Magic is important and in the best interest of every decent wizard, witches and other intelligent beings who interact with them," she said feelingly. The determined words gave her a renewed strength, and she could see the Headmaster sit back in his chair with an unreadable, but much less menacing expression, on his face.

She continued, using the arguments she had prepared for the encounter.

"I fully intent to continue my classes and not sacrifice them for this project, and of course I will assume my prefect duties as well." She knew it was important to affirm her willingness to continue her schooling. She didn't doubt her ability to excel in both endeavors, and saying it aloud effectively reduced the tension she had been feeling.

_Merlin's beard!_

Dumbledore considered the situation. He had just lost the first round and he knew it.

_Let's try a softer approach._

"Please sit down." A comfortable chair materialized for her. She took it with an exhilarating sense of victory. "I trust that Madam Pomfrey has done her usual best for our young friends?"

"Yes. They'll be fine." _But it could have been serious._

Dumbledore noted the disapproval in her eyes.

"Do you think that we allow the games to be too dangerous?" he asked.

"I think it should have been stopped when it started to get out of hand." She shrugged. She had already spoken her mind about that, and it was not her responsibility. _You didn't ask to see me to talk about that stupid game._

But Dumbledore didn't want to let the matter drop. He felt it might be used to make a point.

"Hermione, do you know why I deliberately allow some students to get into dangerous situations?"

She looked up and her mind raced. She had been relaxing her guard when the battle wasn't over yet. The Headmaster was devious, and he liked to use hidden meanings. Concerning his question, she remembered several such occasions.

"You said that about Harry, last summer. You said it was needed for him to grow strong."

"So I did. Danger is a valuable teaching device, if selected with care." He paused for a second. "You realize that I could have stopped Harry and Draco from colliding."

"But then, they would have tried it again," she replied. Showing him that she could understand such logic, even if she didn't always approve. Actually it gave her an idea.

"Exactly," he said. "Perhaps in a situation where the consequences would have been more serious."

"I suppose that you could also have caught Draco before he hit the ground as well," she added. "But you gave Harry his chance."

He nodded prudently. He feared where this was going.

"Then why don't you give me the same chance in my arena?" she concluded with triumph.

Dumbledore privately conceded the point. At least he could turn this into a draw.

"Do not forget that Wizard politics are more _my_ arena that yours," he said. "Why don't _you_ let _me_ play it my way?"

"Because I have a moral purpose. The one that _you_ gave us, if you remember."

It was heady stuff, talking that way to the Headmaster. She would never have dared to do it, but for the tricks he had played on her at the beginning. And she also felt a kind of missionary zeal pushing her foward.

Once again Dumbledore admitted defeat. The girl had turned his argument around like a judo master. How could he have forgotten how resourceful she was?

_She will not give up, but she is intelligent. Maybe I can reason with her._

"Miss Granger, your goals are admirable, but I have to tell you that the situation is more complicated than you think," he began. "Some things must follow their course."

"But sometimes it is necessary to act openly to further the end goal," she replied stubbornly. "I don't see what good it does to let injustice continue."

"The idea is not to redress an injustice, which only you and very few other people recognize," he said patiently. "And that is the crux of the matter. We must convince a majority that there is something wrong with the current situation."

"That can be easily demonstrated," she replied with assurance. He shook his head gently.

"You are not dealing with rational individuals, but with a whole culture. You will never force them to change their minds. They have to be led into understanding."

"That is exactly what FOM aims to do-"

"But it is not what it _will_ do in the hands of Bones," he interrupted. "She will use it to start an argument which will turn into a test of power."

"What do you mean?" Hermione was puzzled.

"The Wizengamot is not a place for debates," he explained. "It is a meeting point where powerful forces measure themselves against each other. What neither you nor Bones realize is that most of these forces will see FOM as a menace. Amelia Bones will enter the fray with a weapon which will turn most allies against her."

Hermione reflected on this. It made sense, but whatever the result, she felt that it could not be worse than the current situation. For a moment, she was ready to admit that it was not her business to argue with the Headmaster about such things. The thought dissolved in her mind, to be replaced but a renewed sense of purpose. She did not even find that strange, and she reasserted her position once more.

"And only if we fight for those principles, will they be respected," she added with determination.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. She had successfully evaded his attempt to unbalance her, and now he found that logic could not convince her. Like McGonagall a minute before, he couldn't help but admire the indomitable spirit of the girl. His very real pride in her success was tempered by the realization that she left him no other options for what must be done. With her present attitude, she was going to provoke a disaster.

_I am truly sorry, my dear Hermione. I must do this, even though it will hurt me as much, if not more, that it will you._

"You are right, Miss Granger," he said, standing up.

Her initial relief was quickly dispelled by the changed tone of his voice. It was not at all the gentle and kind voice of the Headmaster that she knew, nor was it the colder and calculating voice he had used on her. What she was now hearing was the domineering voice of an ancient and formidable wizard who was not going to accept any obstruction to his will, and who would use all his power to attain his goal. It shocked her so much, that she didn't even realize that he was not calling her by her first name anymore.

"BUT YOU ARE ALSO WRONG, BECAUSE YOU DO NOT UNDERSTAND ANYTHING ABOUT THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS!" he said in a thundering voice.

Somewhere, within the depths of the castle, a blinding light radiated from the center of a circle of stones pillars. The same light was now illuminating his body. Hermione was suddenly confronted by the terrifying vision of a creature which was unrecognizable from the old and gentle Headmaster.

Few people had seen Albus Brian Dumbledore like this, and no enemies had ever seen it and lived. Grindelwald had faced it once and died. The Headmaster had not even tried it against Voldemort, because of the Prophecy. If it had not been for that, there was no doubt in his mind of what the outcome would have been. It was pure unadulterated power, but it had one drawback. It would be a terrible mistake to show it to an enemy, and it not being effective. The survivor would have only one goal afterwards, find its weakness and defeat him. Using it toward a friend was even worse. Hermione would never forget, or forgive, what he was doing to her.

She had looked into the eyes of Voldemort. She had felt the terror and the incredible pain of the Dark Lord, but she had not been broken. She had been ready to die, but she would have gone down fighting. Now she faced something which she knew could break her, not through pain or terror, but through raw and massive power. She cringed.

"Sir, please-"

"YOU WILL LISTEN TO ME!"

She could only look at him with panicked eyes, and she abandoned all resistance. She might have fought back to save her life, or Harry's, and maybe not even for that.

"Amelia Bones does not plan to simply help you," he continued. His voice was not as loud as before, but terrible power was barely hidden behind every word. "She has her own agenda, and it is not a trivial one. Many conflicts loom in the Wizengamot, AND YOU KNOW NOTHING OF THESE THINGS!"

She was trembling uncontrollably. It was all she could do just to hold on to his words. Her brain was not really capable of analyzing anything.

"You have showed her a tool which she can use to further her ambitions. Although I would not disapprove of her becoming Minister of Magic, her success must not come at any price, and her failure would be much worse than you can imagine. DO NOT PLAY AT THIS GAME!"

He marked a pause and the energies echoing in the room abated somewhat. Hermione could hear her heart beating loudly in the silence. She didn't dare move her head, but she could some of the pictures of the former Headmasters, and they were as paralyzed as she was. Dumbledore conjured a piece of parchment and a quill, and placed them on his desk, in front of her.

"You will sign this letter to Madam Bones," he ordered, "telling her that you will have no further contact with her, and that your association will remain dormant until you have graduated."

She gasped and threw him a pleading look, but his face was pitiless. She took the quill with a trembling hand and saw that his words were already written on the paper. A small cry escaped her, but her will was broken. She scribbled her name and signed. The letter folded itself with a wave of his wand, and it glided toward Fawkes who plucked it from the air. The Phoenix seemed to throw her an expression of regret, and then it disappeared in a puff of smoke. Hermione couldn't hold back a choking sob, and tears welled up her eyes. She turned toward the Headmaster, but his face was inflexible as he gave more orders.

"From now on, you will have no contact with any other wizard or witch outside of Hogwarts, without my express permission. Your Hogsmeade privileges are suspended. I you disobey me, I will have you expelled."

The terrible words hit her like a blow, and she slumped into her seat. A last vestige of willpower kept her from breaking into sobs. She simply clung to whatever control she could retain, as she just tried to wait out this awful meeting.

"I am quite aware that you are of legal age, and therefore that you could decide to abandon your education, but I warn you that such a decision would be irrevocable," continued the Headmaster.

His eyes bored into hers, and she did her best to look back, barely conscious of what was happening, her vision blurred by tears. Although he showed no sign of it, Dumbledore was in agony over what he was forcing himself to do, and he kept telling himself that it was the only way.

She nodded weakly.

"That is all I have to say, Miss Granger," he finally said. "You are dismissed."

She didn't react immediately and simply sat there, until she finally realized that the terrible session was mercilessly over. Staggering to her feet she turned slowly away, her confused mind desperately trying to recover from the brutal onslaught, her lungs laboring in great gulping breaths. She walked slowly, but before she reached the stairs, she turned back toward him. He was still staring at her, but the distance, and perhaps something fractionally less intimidating in his poise, gave her back a modicum of strength.

"I will obey your wishes, Headmaster," she said in a broken voice. Her lips trembled, and all she really wanted was to run away to cry her heart out for the rest of the night, but she struggled to speak. Not to protest, but at least to make a final plea.

"And perhaps one day you will give me the same chance that you gave Harry."

Dumbledore didn't let anything show, but inside himself, he was as devastated as she was. That she could still say such a thing, after what he had put her through, was simply incredible. He said nothing and made no gesture, because he feared that any such action would display his anguish, and defeat the purpose of the whole, ugly and hated exercise. The two stood immobile and looked at each other for a moment, and then Hermione exited without a further word.

Dumbledore's hand was trembling visibly, as he activated the spell which showed the outside corridor. He saw her stifling sobs while she ran down the stairs. As she was coming out, Severus Snape approached from the main entrance. He had a peaceful and almost content expression on his face, and when he saw her he opened his mouth to address her in what looked like a pleasant and polite way. His attitude changed to concern when he saw her ravaged face. He hesitated, and she spoke first.

"I hope the Cup looks good on your desk, professor," she said with a voice at the limit of spite. "You certainly did everything to deserve it."

He was stunned by the outburst. Before he could answer, she had run off and disappeared behind the first corner. He had such an astonished and surprised expression on his face that Dumbledore couldn't help smiling. The smile turned into a chuckle and then into a wrack of nervous laughter. He stopped it abruptly by banging angrily his fist on his desk, startling the still petrified figures of the former Headmasters in their frames. Nigellus reacted first.

"A more headstrong girl I have never met," he said, shaking his head. His immediate predecessor nodded vigorously.

"Be silent all of you!" snapped Dumbledore.

A shocked stillness filled the room. He tried to calm himself by taking a long deep breath, but it was no good. Never in his life had he been more incensed and disturbed about anything. It shocked him to realize how angry and tired he actually felt. He needed to recover his calm, but he couldn't imagine how to do it. His eyes fell on his desk, and he took in the delicate silver divination device. A burst of blind rage took him. He reached out and then hurled it across the room with all his strength. The object smashed against a wall and disintegrated in flash of magical energy. Thousands of sparkling fragments rebounded across the office. He breathed a deep sigh and dropped in his chair.

_Harry had the right idea. It does help a little._

He closed his eyes and thought that what he really needed was a long, calm, vacation a long distance from everything. Somewhere as far away from wizards and witches as possible. The entry chimed sounded, indicating that someone had spoken the password.

_Damn!_

He cast the surveillance spell and saw who it was. Sighing again, he ordered the passage to open and resigned himself to going back to his role as Headmaster.

Severus came in and took one look at him and at the debris littering the room.

"Are you all right sir?" he asked with concern.

"I am fine," replied the Headmaster, in a tired voice.

Severus considered him carefully. He had a long experience with what such an answer could mean in taxing circumstances. He indicated the broken silver device, and the many fragments on the floor.

"Did Miss Granger?" Dumbledore shook his head.

"No. Not directly at least." Severus raised an inquiring eyebrow, but Dumbledore ignored it. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and opened them. "What did you want to see me about?" he asked, hoping against the odds that it would be something simple.

Severus held out a pink box toward him.

"I was just in Hogsmeade. Honeyduke had some new sweets, from Italy I gather. I thought you might appreciate a sampling."

Dumbledore looked at the box and saw that it was a selection of enchanted animal candies. He opened it and a bright orange butterfly flew out and landed on his finger. It looked to be made of glittering sugary stuff. A smile brightened his face, and he looked up.

"Severus. I think that I could kiss you right now."

He ignored the look of alarm on the potion teacher's face and opened his mouth. The candy butterfly took off and jumped inside where it melted in a burst of honey savors. The Headmaster closed his eyes, in pleasure this time, and laid back in his chair.

Professor Snape was highly confused by all that had happened in the last minutes. He had only planned for a friendly call on the Headmaster. After having escorted Helen back to London, he had felt an unusual desire to talk with someone. Not about anything specific. It was just a basic human need for friendly company, not something he had ever expected to search for, and the Headmaster had seemed to be the obvious choice.

_Perhaps, I should have sought out Remus. It would probably have been simpler._

"Sir, I do not quite understand."

Dumbledore looked at him with a sad face.

"And you think I do?" He shook his head in disgust. Severus was now genuinely worried. He had _never_ seen the man so despondent.

"Why should I be expected to be always right?" murmured Dumbledore. His eyes fell on the box of sweets and his hand reached out again. Another candy jumped out, some kind of crawling, spider like insect, which scuttled on the table and onto his hand. This time the taste was licorice.

"Perhaps you can tell me what happened?" asked Severus reasonably. Dumbledore nodded, his mouth still closed to keep in the flavors as long as possible. He resolutely closed the box and sat up in a more dignified manner. Noticing the mess of the broken silver device, he waived his hand negligently.

"_Reparo,_" he murmured. The scattered pieces reassembled quickly and the repaired object jumped back on the desk. Dumbledore looked at it and wondered if still worked as badly as before. Maybe the rough treatment had improved it.

_Maybe it needed to feel the brutality of humanity before it could properly predict its future._

Severus considered the wandless magic with interest. It certainly showed style.

"Severus, I feel that I have done badly with our young friends, and I despair of my ability to handle them."

The potion master's worry grew. If even the Headmaster couldn't control them, who or what could?

"Miss Granger?" he asked. Dumbledore nodded and gave him a quick update on the situation with FOM and Amelia Bones.

"I have stopped her from continuing in that, but at a price I never expected to pay." Severus saw the pain in his eyes and wondered what he had done to her. He guessed that it could explain the girl's attitude outside. Dumbledore shook his finger at the other man. "It is trite but true that good intentions have a way to develop into unforeseen and unpleasant consequences. I truly love and care for them, and she truly wishes to do well, but so often these things turn into catastrophes." Severus frowned.

"Are things in London so bad then?" he asked. Dumbledore nodded.

"Yes. Fudge is a fool, but at least he has no power. Bones wants his place, and Miss Granger has given her an ideal tool to run with. The problem is that others are maneuvering as well. They are stronger, and I am very much afraid of _their_ goals if they succeed."

"Why not help Bones directly?"

Dumbledore grimaced and moved uncomfortably in his seat.

"It is not a contest of power, which we could win easily, for a short term, but a fight for the heart and minds. Wizards must be ready to accept a new philosophy. That will take time, and subtlety." He looked Severus straight in the eye. "Young people are always so eager, too eager. They will run toward the flame and get burned. Always remember that my friend." _When you are in my place._

Severus tried to decrypt the hidden meaning of the words. He suddenly felt uncomfortable as he remembered his role in pushing Draco to win the match at all cost.

_This is the kind of mistake he is warning me against. Are there others?_

Eager. The term made him think of Helen, and the joyful anticipation visible in her eyes. Was he playing with fire in that area as well? Slytherin cautiousness seemed wiser than ever.

"Is there anything I can do, sir?"

Dumbledore shook his head and thanked him for the visit and the present. He seemed to have retreated into melancholy. Severus stood up and took his leave.

The Headmaster stayed at his desk, lost in his thoughts. He wondered if he had done the right thing, and a single tear flowed into his beard. After a while Fawkes reappeared. The Phoenix chirped gently and nuzzled against his master's hand. Dumbledore looked into the ruby eyes.

_If only tears could heal minds, like yours repair bodies_.

- - -

Hermione had run as far away as she could, while still staying into the castle. Hogwarts was a big place, and there were some rarely used galleries and wings, full of empty rooms and long term storage areas. She finally found an isolated spot. It was dark, dusty and cold, but it was a place where she could let out her pain and grief. She dropped against the damp stone wall and broke into great wracking sobs.

_Nobody cares! They all hate and despise me! I always try and nobody cares. _

She abandoned herself to her grief, pummeling the ground with her fist at first, and then finally hugging herself to find what comfort she could.

_It's so unfair!_

Time went by, and she did not notice its passing. It was only when a gentle hand touched her shoulder that she emerged from her orgy of self pity.

"Mione."

It was Harry, who had looked for her in vain, until he had finally remembered to get the Marauder's map from his trunk, and to hunt for the spot marked with her name. She turned toward him and came into his arms.

"Mione. What's the matter? What happened?"

She shook her head. She couldn't bring herself to admit the dreadful humiliation that the Headmaster had visited on her. She said nothing, but clinging to him made her feel better. He held her gently and brushed the tear soaked locks of hair from her face. After a while, she calmed down. She had stopped crying, and she was just breathing slowly.

"Come on. Let's get back to the dorm," he said.

"No! ... I don't want to go there. I don't want to ... see the others." She tried to get out of his embrace, but he held on tightly and shooed her.

"All right," he said gently. "All right then, but we can't just stay here all night."

She didn't want that either, but the prospect of facing Ron, Ginny, or anyone else for that matter, was too much for her. Everything just seemed so desperate, and she broke into sobs once again. Harry took out the Marauder's map and checked the second floor.

"Do you want to go to the Bubble? We'll have it to ourselves."

She nodded weakly, and he helped her get up. She didn't even want to look at him directly, stubbornly keeping her head down. Harry wondered exactly what had happened with McGonagall and Dumbledore. It must have been pretty bad for her to react that way. His anger returned in force, and he vowed to find out and confront them about it. No matter how annoying she could be, Hermione didn't deserve any of this.

They walked silently to the secret place where no one could see them. Hermione moved like a robot, or like someone exhausted. They got inside and closed the opening.

"Do you want to eat something?" She shook her head and just went to the bed, pulled a cover and slipped underneath, burying her face into a pillow.

He looked at her helplessly, and then he walked to sit next to her.

"I just want to sleep," she murmured.

He considered the messed up bunch of hair, and the closed fist of her hand against her mouth. She looked so forlorn, and it made him feel completely powerless.

"All right."

He guessed that sleep was the best thing for her right now, so he refrained from touching her, which was what he most wanted to do. He reached under the blankets and removed her shoes, and generally arranged things so that she would be as comfortable as possible. He dimmed the lights and went into the bathroom to undress and wash.

When he came back, she was asleep. Her breathing was regular, and her face almost peaceful. He got into the bed, careful not to jostle her, and then he just waited for sleep to come.


	20. Chapter 19 Maneuvers

_The Avengers take out their revenge on Mrs. Norris, and meet an unexpected night prowler. Hermione wakes up. The Brotherhood agents continue their manipulations._

* * *

**_Chapter 19 – Maneuvers_**

_Hogwarts,_

Most students were already sleeping when Alicia tiptoed across the Gryffindor common room toward the portrait door. She opened it carefully and peered out to check that nobody was near. She was dressed in black pants, a marine blue turtle neck sweater (the darkest one she could find), and the tight black leather boots Fred and George had sent them. The boots were very comfortable. They gave a good grip for running, and they made absolutely no noise. They had discovered that they were charmed with a permanent silencing spell.

They'd had several night meetings with Flitz, all of them fascinating, and excellent occasions to test their new equipment and the tricks described in the _Marauder's Guide_. The first time, Flitz had given them a present in exchange for Richard's watch. Actually the boy had only planned to lend it to him, but Flitz had not understood it that way, and he fully expected to keep the device. It did not really matter because his return gift was something much more interesting.

After the young Centaur had greeted them, he had immediately taken a small furry ball from his pouch.

"This is for you. My gift."

Alicia had accepted it, not knowing what it could be. When the thing had moved in her hand, she'd squealed in surprise and almost dropped it.

"Hey! What is it?" Richard had cast a _Lumos_ spell from his wand and, as they gathered around, they saw that it was some kind of animal.

"It is a Tackling," said Flitz. "This one is very small. It happens sometimes. They don't grow up."

"You mean we can keep it as a pet?"

"What is a _pet_?" he had asked.

"Er, it's an animal friend," said Richard quickly. Flitz was a wild creature of the forest after all, and maybe he wouldn't like the idea that humans kept animals as toys.

"Oh, it's so cute," said Silena. "Can I have it?"

Alicia and Richard had already noticed that the younger girl was very much used to having her way, and getting the best part of anything. Alicia wisely postponed that discussion for when they would be back inside the school. In the end, and after a lot of arguing, they had agreed that she could keep it most of the times, but that it would really belong to all of them.

They had talked of many things. Richard had explained to Flitz how to use the watch. It had taken a lot of patience to get across the idea of splitting the day and night into two times twelve identical parts. The Centaur had appeared a little disappointed at what it could be used for. He only had to look at the sky to know the time.

He had told them of the Unicorns, and although he couldn't explain everything, they understood that these beings were very important to him, and to all Centaurs. He'd been prudent about they being able to meet one, but Alicia was determined to get her chance. As she walked the deserted corridors, she couldn't help thinking about it. She only snapped out of her wool gathering when she approached their hiding spot, the place where they had first talked with Fred and George.

"Are you there?" she whispered.

"Yes!"

Silena and Richard came out to join her. Richard was wearing his bowler hat. He still hadn't found out what its special power was, but he thought that it was still way cool to wear. He was also carrying a rather large wooden box, about fifty centimeters long and twenty wide, and a small bag.

"Ready?" he asked. The girls nodded and the three furtive figures moved away, quickly and silently.

- - -

Remus Lupin didn't patrol every night, but he had been doing it more and more frequently. He didn't need much sleep in any case, courtesy of his wolf half. Years ago, as a student, he had loved the quiet and mysterious atmosphere of the old castle at night. It had been the domain of the Marauders, and because of this, he had been reluctant to do it again. During Harry's third year, when he had returned as a teacher, he had forced himself to take that part of the common burden to protect the boy, but the memories of those happy times with James and Sirius had been painful. He would sometimes stumble unto something which brought back a particularly precise remembrance, and then he would find his lungs paralyzed by sorrow, and his throat blocked by a big lump.

Things had been easier last semester, after both Tonks and Harry had helped him heal from his grief. He'd been less vulnerable.

At present, with the menace of Voldemort lifted, the closure of mourning was almost complete. James and Sirius were avenged, in a sense. He still prowled around like before, but it was now a pleasant exercise. It made him feel uplifted to imagine all those children living and dreaming in this wonderful place, learning their way around like he had at their age. Nevertheless, walking alone in the dark was a lonely occupation. He always hoped to catch sight of some curfew breakers, but there was curiously few of those.

He walked slowly in the darkness, relying on secondary senses and memory more than on his eyes. He could see like a cat, but hearing and smell were the best guides for this. Even a Werewolf's eyes could be distracted by the random movements in the paintings, and using a light would have been poor style.

As he was passing near the third floor stairway, he heard a soft shuffling sound which he immediately recognized as Filch doing his own rounds. He too was certainly hoping to catch some student in a forbidden situation. Remus smiled as he remembered their own battles with the hated caretaker. He normally tried to avoid him. The man was not a better companion at night than during the day, but this time, an impulse made him want to stalk him a little.

_Maybe even give him a good fright. For old times' sake._

He followed the sound, careful not to be detected.

"Did you smell something, my pretty?" murmured Filch, throwing the light from his lamp right and left. "Found some nastiness did you?"

He was evidently talking to Mrs. Norris. Both would be hunters moved along, with Remus keeping at a safe distance. He knew that the cat was much more dangerous than the man. It was no use hiding behind a pillar from something which could sniff you out. The best defense was to run like hell, the beast was getting old after all. Scaring it away was even better, but this generally took more guts than most students had. Speaking of which, they were approaching a place he remembered well...

- - -

Out in another corridor, Silena was holding on the Tackling, keeping it close to her chest, and Alicia was getting impatient.

"Come on," she whispered furiously. "We all agreed on it, and you said you'd do it."

"I changed my mind," replied Silena in the same low voice. "That cat is too nasty, and I don't want Furry to be hurt. Why don't we find another idea?"

Richard sighed heavily.

"Because it's a perfect setup and we don't have time to change the plan," he said. "Nothing's going to happen to Furry. We practiced it twice and it worked perfectly."

"It wasn't a real practice," she replied stubbornly.

They'd used Crookshank, with which Alicia was very friendly, after introducing Furry, their name for the cute little Tackling, to Hermione's big cat. The _Guide_ had explained a simple ploy to trap Mrs. Norris, using a peculiarity of this part of the school. The basic idea was to separate her from Filch, by using a crack in the internal wall between two rooms on the third floor. The manual had suggested using some kind of lure pulled by a string, but a written comment from Fred and George said that Mrs. Norris was now quite wary of such tricks. Richard had proposed that they use Furry as living bait. The cat had probably never met such a creature before, and curiosity would probably override all caution. The Tackling would just have to make some noise while standing at the entrance of the hole, then it would dash back toward the side where the Avengers would prepare an ambush.

"Silena, you're not being reasonable," explained Richard with as much patience as he could. "We'll all be in the same room and ready to stun that monster before it can lay a paw on Furry. Remember what Flitz told us. Tackling are very good at this. The Centaurs use them to hunt for wolves, for Christ's sake!"

"Merlin's"

"What?"

"You're a Wizard. You should say 'for Merlin's sake'," affirmed the diminutive girl.

Richard looked at Alicia who was biting her lip. He took a deep breath.

"Well, _for Merlin's sake_, will you go along?" She scowled back at him. "Don't you remember the fright she gave us that first night?" he added. "This is payback time."

She was finally convinced, and they went toward the room they had chosen for the trap. Alicia thanked her effusively. Richard followed them, silently mouthing uncomplimentary words and making strangling motions with his hands. The older girl saw it and gestured to her brother to stop making such a fuss.

He made a face at her. _Girls!_

Alicia checked her watch. They had followed the advice of the Weasley twins and made a careful record of the caretaker's rounds. They knew that Filch and Mrs. Norris would be coming into the opposite corridor in just a few minutes. Richard took out a net from his bag. Its mesh was wide enough for Furry to pass through, but it would hold the cat easily. She helped him string it in an appropriate position. After a last cuddle, Silena put the Tackling on the ground near the hole, kissed it for luck, and set it on it way to the other side. The three Avengers took out their wands and waited, tense with anticipation.

A sharp hissing sound was heard, immediately followed by a squeal and the unmistakable sound of running animals. Shortly afterwards, a speeding ball of fur burst out of the opening, with Mrs. Norris closely behind. The net was pulled sharply up, and it caught her neatly. The trapped cat went completely ape as it struggled to get out the trap. It thrashed with such ferocity and strength that the net was pulled out of their hands. It was as if they had captured a furious demon, and they had to step back to avoid being racked by the sharp claws coming out of the meshes. At the same time they heard a cry of alarm from Filch.

"_Petrificus Totalus!_" yelled Alicia, pointing her wand at the animal.

The furious movements stopped immediately, and the paralyzed form of the cat, completely entangled in the net, stood in the middle of the room.

"Gotcha!" said Richard. "Quickly, we don't have much time."

He grabbed their capture, using the net as a makeshift bag. Silena had already recovered Furry, and Alicia took the rest of their equipment. They left the room in haste. Filch knew the layout of the school better than anyone, and he would certainly come to this place in few seconds. The second part of their plan would have to be done elsewhere.

"How long is she going to stay that way?" whispered Richard.

"Ten minutes at the most."

"It should be enough."

They were moving along toward safety, when the sound of movement was heard in front of them. Luckily, they were now in a larger space and there was a good chance of hiding successfully. Extinguishing their lamp, and casting the Shadow spell, they crouched low along one of the walls. It had several alcoves and statues which made for a perfect camouflage background.

The moving light from Filch's swinging lantern tore the darkness, and the three children stayed perfectly immobile while he passed by. It was the first time they were actually testing the spell against him. To their relief, it worked perfectly, and the caretaker was evidently in a hurry to find out what had happened to his pet, so he didn't waste time exploring every nook and space. Despite this, it was still a rather frightening moment, and they waited until he had safely turned the first corner before getting up and moving on. They had only progressed for a few steps however, when another soft walking sound was heard. It couldn't be Filch, who was now behind them. Most probably, it would be another student, but they took no chances and concealed themselves again.

The newcomer didn't use any light, which was very strange. They waited in the dark with beating hearts, as the soft steps came closer and closer, and then stopped.

"_Lumos!_"

They found themselves as paralyzed as Mrs. Norris, facing professor Lupin standing right before him. For a moment they simply stared at each other. Remus' face had his usual serious expression. It was Silena who reacted first.

"Good evening, professor Lupin," she said politely.

Remus said nothing. His gaze moved to the netted, and still petrified, Mrs. Norris, and he frowned. Alicia swore under her breath and Richard felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. Somehow, he didn't think even Silena was going to charm them out of this one.

"We can explain everything," he said, feverishly trying to come up with a plausible justification.

"I am listening," said Remus calmly. "Somehow, I do not doubt that it will be an interesting story."

He was trying hard to keep a serious mien. The three of them were a dead match for what he, Padfoot and Throngs had been. He made an effort to push Wormtail out of the memory, although the anger it elicited could be used to mask his secret sympathy. After all he was now a teacher, and these students had been caught red handed in the breaking of several school rules. It wouldn't do to fraternize.

"Er ..." Richard fumbled for something to say. His brain was frozen with fear, and he couldn't think of anything convincing.

In the background, the sounds of Filch, still searching for his cat, could now be heard coming back toward them.

"Please. It was just a practical joke," offered Alicia. She'd come to the conclusion that there was no way they could pretend at innocence. Nothing that professor Lupin could to them, could possibly be worse than the caretaker's reaction if he saw what had been done to his cat.

"Yeah," added Richard, playing along. "We'll confess everything, but please don't give us in to him." He jerked his head toward the approaching sound.

Remus hesitated just long enough to extract the maximum effect from their fear. He had already decided to keep their common enemy outside of this.

"Take Mrs. Norris out the net," he ordered.

Richard moved immediately to obey. He was so much in a hurry, and so clumsy with the terror of being caught by Filch, that he dropped his bag on the floor. The _Marauder's Guide_ fell out and skidded toward Remus' feet. Before anyone of them could recover it, the professor had taken it. His eyes grew large as he saw the title.

_Merlin! This is one of James' legacy notebooks. Where did they find it?_

He caught Richard's eyes and saw the pleading in them.

"Quite an interesting item you have there," he said. "I think that story is really going to be a good one. Too bad that we don't have much time."

The boy swallowed and somehow the panic in his eyes increased, as if the loss of the book was even worse than being caught tormenting the caretaker's pet.

Remus saw that the petrified form of the cat was now free from its prison, and Alicia confirmed that the spell would wear off in a few minutes. He had them follow him out the area, knowing that Filch would certainly stop and wait for the cat to revive.

They moved on to the entrance of the great hall, and stopped where the children would have to go different ways to get back to their dormitories. They looked back at him with apprehension, waiting for his sentence.

"I will deduct twenty points from each House," he said sternly, "and you will spend three evening of detentions with me, starting Thursday night, reordering the History of Magic archives." The full moon was coming soon, and he had to take that into account.

They didn't protest. Actually they had expected much worse, but everyone agreed that professor Lupin was not a hard teacher, even though the prospect of serving detention with a Werewolf was scary enough to Silena. Alicia opened her mouth and gestured toward the book in his hand, working up the courage to ask for it. It would be so much better if the professor didn't get a close look at its content, but Remus shook his head before the girl could speak.

"I may give this back to you at the end of your detention," he said. "If the story is good enough, including how you got it. Now, you will get back to your beds, and no detours."

Alicia's shoulder slumped, and she lowered her head in defeat. At least, they knew it practically by heart, but it was a big symbolic loss nonetheless. Richard looked at the professor and thought he detected a slight glint of amusement in the man's eyes. He didn't say anything, but it would be worth thinking about.

They separated. Remus stood there a moment more, finally relaxing the mask he had been keeping on the whole time. A happy smile brightened his face as he took out the book and caressed the weathered leather surface. Finding it was like meeting an old friend after many years. He was really looking forward for that detention.

- - -

Hermione woke up first. It took her a few seconds to realize that she was not in her bed, and still dressed in her now thoroughly rumpled school uniform. She slowly recognized where she was, and that was when the painful memories of the previous evening returned in force. She closed her eyes and moaned, instinctively throwing herself backward into the bed, and against Harry's sleeping form.

"Huh!" he said.

She turned and their eyes met, sort of. His were still fuzzy with sleep, and by his lack of glasses.

"Sorry. Go back to sleep," she murmured.

"- re you okay?" he mumbled.

"Yeah."

She stood up and went to the bathroom, before he could press her for more details. She felt sweaty and probably looked like hell, so she averted her eyes from the mirror, not wanting to confirm the impression. She just splashed some water on her face. Over the noise of the faucet, she could hear someone speaking in the main room, but she ignored it. She tried to ignore a lot of things, out of fear of what it could lead to. She even refrained from taking a hot shower. It would relax her and get her brain working, and she wasn't ready for that. She took a comb and pulled at her hair, in a half hearted attempt to make it presentable.

She caught a flash of herself in the mirror and the reflection was exactly like she felt, awful. There was no way she was coming out with a face like that, and yet she didn't really care. She was lost and the comb dropped on the floor. She sat on the toilet seat, her face in her hand.

Outside, Harry has finished giving orders to Dobby to bring them some breakfast, when he heard the sobs. He hesitated, not wanting to disturb her privacy, but then he decided that he just couldn't leave her like that. He opened the door and found her, wrapped in a towel and crying in abandon. He kneeled next to her and took her in his arms.

"Go away," she said weakly. "Don't look at me."

"Tell me what's wrong, Mione," he said gently. "I can't leave you like that. Let me help you."

"I don't want to talk about it!" There was a real note of hysteria in her voice. The idea of telling what had happened was unbearable. It was still too humiliating.

He didn't reply at first, feeling as helpless as the night before. The anger returned as well. If she couldn't speak, then Dumbledore or McGonagall would. He straightened up, while still keeping his hands on her arms to steady her.

"I'm going to talk to Dumbledore. I'll get some answers if I have to tear his place apart once again."

"No!"

She pulled him back. The look on her ravaged face was desperate. Residue of make up had mixed with the tears, and she hadn't done a good job of washing it away. Her skin showed marks from sleeping on the folds from her pillow, but none of that compared to the pain in her eyes.

"Mione, I've got to do something," he said stubbornly. "Either, you let me help you, or you let me go and ask questions. I'm just not going to just stay on the sidelines."

She exploded into sobs again, unable to resolve the situation. He muttered something inaudible and tried again. There had to be something he could do.

"Do you want me to wash your hair? It'll make you feel better, and even if you cry, I won't see the tears with the water flowing."

She gave a puff of half hearted laughter. He took the occasion to catch her eyes. She tried to evade him at first, but she finally looked back at him. He smiled and she replied in kind, quickly, before hiding her face once again against him. He felt her grip tighten.

_I love you Harry. It's the one thing I can count on. We love each other. I'm just going to think about that and nothing else._

She let herself be seated against the bathtub, head thrown back and eyes closed. He wetted her hair and gently mixed the shampoo, taking his time and murmuring soft soothing words. His hands caressed her hair and face. He made sure that no soap got into her eyes. She said nothing, but she found that she could indeed relax, and stop thinking about anything else but the two of them.

When they came back into the room, the bed had been remade, and a breakfast for two was sitting on the low table.

"Dobby?" she murmured.

"Yeah, I called him."

She nodded, and they sat down to eat. He tried not to look at her too expectantly, promising himself that he would just let her speak out when she was ready. They would hold hands from time to time and smile at each other. It was pleasant enough, and they were both content to make the quiet time last as long as possible.

Hermione was slowly recovering her normal forward looking attitude. Harry saw it too, and she realized that he was going to take advantage of it to make her talk, which she still didn't want to do, not right now. She didn't want to smack him down either. Somehow, she knew that he was probably her only hope for sanity in this world. An anchor to which she could hang on. Someone to cherish, and who would never betray her, unlike ... She squashed the thought. _I don't want to think about it yet._

She thought about how much she loved him.

"Do you really want another cup?" she asked suddenly.

"Uh?" He looked up in surprise. She had a new expression on her face, bright and yet not really focused. Almost as if she was a little drunk, or high on something.

She took his hand and stood up, pulling him with her. He let himself be led with a puzzled expression which turned into delight as she pushed him on the bed, falling on top of him.

"Hey! You seem - _humph!_" Her lips closed his mouth, and there was nothing to say after that. If wasn't often that Hermione took the lead, and when she did, it was usually no more than a mischievous hint, but Harry certainly didn't mind being so brazenly seduced. His last objective thought was that Dobby would have to make the bed once again.

Of course he wouldn't mind.

- - -

"Good morning everybody."

The early risers among the teachers were already seated in their places at the breakfast table. Remus was the latest. He noted that Severus and McGonagall had almost finished. A returned greeting came back in chorus. He pulled out a chair, but stopped when Severus caught his eye.

"Could I have a private word with you?" asked the man.

Remus had been more or less expecting that, although he had hoped to get a cup of tea in first. The potion teacher nodded an excuse to professor McGonagall and the two men stepped aside.

"I understand that two of my first years have detention with you," he said, wasting no time as usual.

"Yes, and a Gryffindor as well," replied Remus. Severus frowned.

"The Parker girl?"

Remus nodded, and the frown deepened.

"That seems a little unusual, for simply breaking curfew," he added. "But then perhaps, I am not aware of everything." He waited for Remus to elaborate but the other man just shrugged.

"Nothing important really. I just want to make a point."

Severus pondered this. He had his own idea on what might have happened. It might even have something to do with Filch's exceptionally foul mood this morning. The man had even wanted to talk to the Headmaster, but Dumbledore had left word that he was not to be disturbed.

"How did you find them?" he asked instead. Remus shrugged again, letting show a discrete smile. Severus' eyes narrowed. "Perhaps it does take a Marauder to catch Marauders," he added in a low voice.

Remus looked up sharply. He wasn't very comfortable with the subject anymore, and Severus' face was unreadable.

"One of the things I will make sure of is that some ... mistakes are not repeated," said Remus, meeting the other man's gaze firmly.

Severus said nothing for a moment, and then his expression softened. He nodded slowly.

"I will go along with that," he said, closing the matter. He walked away and Remus sighed inwardly before going back to the breakfast table. He hoped that McGonagall would at least give him a chance to drink a cup, before she started asking _her_ questions.

- - -

Silena and Alicia had been sitting together at the far end of one of the tables. Neither was very cheerful. The grapevine had been as efficient as usual. Everyone knew about the detention, and several students had been giving them sour looks because of the lost points. Richard joined them in a rush.

"Where have you been?" asked Alicia.

He lowered his head and made them lean in close before replying.

"I just overheard professor Lupin talk with professor Snape," he whispered. Silena gasped at what that could mean, but he shushed her. "He's sticking to the official story, so that's good, but what's better is something professor Snape said." He repeated the phrase about the Marauders.

That was indeed something interesting to ponder. It hinted at a secret concerning their DADA and History of Magic teacher. Actually it was just like being given another riddle to solve, and the coming detention would be perfect occasion to start on it, just like Fred and George had said. They were still discussing it, speaking in very low voices to prevent any eavesdropping, when Silena spotted professor Snape coming toward them. He was walking very rapidly, and they interrupted the conversation in the nick of time.

"Miss Malfoy, Mister Parker?" he said in his coldest and silkiest voice.

"Professor Snape," they replied immediately.

"I want both of you in my office in ten minutes."

Not waiting for an answer, he whirled around and left the hall in his usual long strides. Silena swallowed and looked at Richard for reassurance. He didn't have a lot to share. The sobered children looked at their bowls of chocolate and buttered rolls, but no one was very hungry anymore.

At the requested time, Silena and Richard came down to the dungeons and arrived at the door of the potion master's office.

"Whatever happens," whispered Silena, "don't say you're sorry."

"Uh?"

"Slytherins are never sorry for what they do," she continued. "I you make a mistake, then you simply say that you'll do better next time." That was one lesson from her father that she remembered very well.

"Do better next time," repeated Richard. "Right."_ I bloody hope there's no next time._

He squared his shoulders and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Professor Snape was seated at his desk. He looked back at them severely as they marched toward him. Richard's heart skipped a beat when he saw what he was holding in his hand. A long thin wooden rod, weathered with the patina of years of use. He had never actually seen it before, but several other Slytherin students had been very vocal about this particular teaching instrument.

They waited for the professor to speak.

"It is quite unusual, not to mention _embarrassing_, when first year students are given extended detention," he said coldly, testing the rod gently against his hand.

Richard made a valiant effort to take his eyes away from the thing, and to look his Head of House in the eye. Terrified at what might be coming, he completely forgot what Silena had just told him.

"I'm really so-" _CRACK!_

The rod had snapped violently against the surface of the desk, startling the two children.

"A Slytherin is never sorry, Mister Parker," said Snape coldly. "He can however better himself, and thrive to correct any disappointment he may have caused. Do you understand?" The man's voice was biting. Richard tried not to cringe, but he had to swallow a big lump before replying.

"Yes, sir," he managed to say.

Snape held their gaze for a moment. He noted that Silena didn't try to pull her usual angelic attitude. She knew on whom it could work, and when it could backfire badly.

"Consider this to be a free warning. The next time will be very different." His hand caressed the hard wood and the two children nodded carefully.

"Dismissed!"

- - -

Hermione was lying with her head on Harry's chest. She felt much better, and she knew that she had delayed as long as she could.

_Time to leave the bubble and get back to the real world._

She would have to decide what to tell him. That was the hardest part. She had already decided not to say anything to the others. Too many things had changed, and she didn't trust anyone anymore, except Harry.

_But if I tell him now, he's going to go to Dumbledore. That won't be good. They trust each other too much._

She didn't want Harry to have to choose between her and the Headmaster. She would have to find a way to explain what had happened in a way that would prevent this.

_I need to understand it first._

She was certain that something important was going on. She didn't know what, but she would figure it out, and decide what to do about it.

"Harry?"

"Hmm,"

"Thank you for being there ... for being you."

"Well -" He started to say something lighthearted, but he realized that it was perhaps not the right time for banter. "I love you." Those were the best words he could think of.

She pressed herself against him.

"I love you too. Never doubt that. Never."

"I won't." Her voice was firmer and he hoped that whatever her trouble was, she was getting over it, but she still sounded upset. Once again he wondered at what had happened in the Headmaster's office.

"I need you to do something for me," she said.

"What?"

She moved so that they could look at each other. He had a contented expression on his face, _which he should_, she thought, but a frown of concern was already forming.

"Give me some time." He tried to protest but she stopped him, shutting his lips with her fingers. "I need time to ... think."

She smiled, sort of, but he thought that her face was very serious.

"And please don't say anything to the others," she added, "or to anyone. Anyone," she repeated.

He looked unhappy, and only her apparent calm kept him from arguing. He didn't want to risk her breaking out in sobs again.

"You'll be all right?" he asked.

"I'm all right when I'm with you," she said carefully. "I don't know how I'll be with ... the rest of them." She gestured vaguely toward the door. _That's one of the things I need to think about._

He hesitated, visibly unconvinced that she knew what she was doing. His heart called out to help her in any way he could, but all she asked was that he didn't try.

"Just give me a little time," she pleaded. "Please."

He felt the pain in her voice, and there was only one way to make it stop. He kissed her hand, rubbing it fiercely against his chin.

"And then you'll tell me?" _You'll tell me everything?_ He didn't say it out loud but she understood.

"Yes," she promised. "I'll tell you everything."

Her voice was strong. He trusted her, so he just nodded and she smiled at him, a better smile than before. He smiled back, but he couldn't help noticing how grave her face was.

"Okay."

- - -

_Diagon Alley,_

Sir Comil pushed the doors of Gringotts and look around for an available teller. Even on a Sunday morning, the bank was open for business. It was one of the few nice things about the Goblins. He found one with no queue of waiting customers, and he walked purposefully toward it.

"Sir," said the Goblin with shrewd eyes. Comil produced the letter he had received.

"Good morning. I have an appointment with Goblin Graskut," he said, coughing discretely. Goblins always made him feel uncomfortable.

The teller took the letter and examined it with attention, as if he had just been warned that it could be to be a forgery. After about half a minute he looked carefully at Comil, and then finally accepted that the request was legitimate.

"Follow me. Please."

Comil sighed tiredly. The officers of the bank were easy enough to get along with, but the Goblins in charge of filtering the customers could be exasperating, except when one was just coming in to give them more Galleons.

He followed the little creature into one of the private meeting rooms. The Goblin opened a door, looked inside to make sure that it was the right one, and gestured for him to enter.

"Sir Comil, welcome among us," said a well dressed wizard he had never met, but whom he knew by reputation. The other occupant of the room was another Goblin, evidently of much higher status than the teller.

"Good morning," said Comil, relieved to be back in civilized company.

"I am Armand Thelas. I represent the investment fund, and this is Goblin Graskut, with whom I usually work on such matters."

"Very glad to meet you both, and thank you for organizing this meeting."

"You are quite welcome," said Graskut with his best Goblin smile, pointed teeth and all. "The idea is after all to make money."

Comil wanted to launch the new generation of Nimbus brooms in a big way, at home and abroad. That required more resources than he could spare. In normal circumstances, borrowing money would have been risky, but he was counting on the added publicity from the last Hogwarts Quidditch match, and from the participation of the new student celebrities. Looking around for investors, he had been contacted by one of Thelas' agents, ultimately leading to today's meeting.

They discussed the financial details of the deal: how much, when would the money be repaid and so on. Their proposal was quite advantageous. It would really take a string of bad luck for Nimbus Flyware not to make a handsome profit. Comil had no trouble reaching an agreement. When the general conditions were settled, the Goblin produced a contract, at least twenty pages long, and started to modify it.

There was only an unusual stipulation on the loan which formed the basis of their accord. Thelas wanted a fixed rate, with provisions for a special insurance policy, in addition to a participation of the first year's profits.

"Don't you want to consider variable rates?" proposed Graskut with a slight frown. "With the demise of the Dark Lord, the financial markets are bound to relax the price of money. With your provision, you could refinance of course, but isn't it a little complicated?"

"I'm afraid that my partners are still a little uptight about these things," said Thelas with an easy smile. He made a gesture of helplessness. "Personally, I fully agree with you, but it will take some time to convince them, and it is of little consequences anyway."

The Goblin looked at him pensively for a moment, and then he shrugged and went on to reread the next section of the contract. Goblins were notorious for checking everything at least twice.

"The Weasleys are a good choice for the tour," said Thelas, turning toward Sir Comil. The other man agreed with enthusiasm.

"Yes. Genuine fanatics. But you know, I was wondering if I shouldn't add Harry Potter to the list. He is really a fantastic flyer."

Thelas grimaced. Plainly he didn't think it would be a good idea.

"He is too famous. The crowd would probably forget about everything else but him, and it would drown out the rest of your marketing," he said.

"Well perhaps," Sir Comil wasn't fully convinced. "Still, what a billboard it would make."

He imagined the crowd who would be drawn by well advertised demonstration plays with the three most famous amateur Quidditch players of the moment. Four if he could also get Draco Malfoy. If only one in hundred visitors placed an order, it would make him a fortune and clobber his competitors. He shivered in excitement.

"Sir Comil," said Thelas, in a lowered voice and with a more serious face.

"Hum..." The man snapped out of his day dreaming. "Yes?"

"There is another reason for keeping with the Weasleys," said Thelas. His face twisted in embarrassment. "I do not know how to say it. We all admire Potter, but that girl of his ..."

"Yes?"

Comil had only briefly met Hermione Granger at the Auror Academy. She hadn't been the most charming of the Six students. Certainly she had a formidable intellectual reputation. _So she's not a sports fan, what of it?_

"You are familiar with her lineage?" continued Thelas delicately.

"Ah yes. I see what you mean." _Her parents are both Muggles, I remember that now_. He pondered the question for a moment. "You think that it could cause problems?"

"Well," Thelas grimaced. "We are aiming at the upper market, and that means the traditional families, while she ..." He didn't elaborate but Sir Comil got the message immediately.

"I understand. Perhaps you are right." He sighed. "Oh well. We'll have our hands full as it is."

"You certainly will," said Thelas with confidence. "This operation has a lot going for it. I am sure that it will be a success." He threw a quick glance at the Goblin, but Graskut seemed very absorbed in the last sections of the contract.

The rest of the meeting was quickly dispatched. When everything was signed, Comil received the notification that a sum of a round Million galleons had been transferred to his company's vault. They shook hands with each other, and Graskut escorted the two wizards to the bank's hall. Thelas and Sir Comil went their own way, and Graskut returned to his office to finish the internal paperwork.

Sitting at his desk, he read the contract once again, his left hand nervously tapping on the blotter. Something about that insurance provision didn't seem in character, and he knew that Thelas' partners let him total latitude on such matters. He thought about it a little more, and then took a small hammer with which he hit a miniature gong. The gong's surface dissolved into the face of another Goblin.

"Yes?"

"I would like to speak to Goblin Gauldbag."

- - -

_Home of Cornelius Fudge,_

Cornelius Fudge Apparated in the lobby of his comfortable flat. He gave a perfunctory salute to the junior Auror on guard, and went into his private apartment.

"Darling, I'm home," he called out to his wife.

He got no answer, but that could simply mean that she was busy in one of the more distant rooms, and that she hadn't heard him. More unusual was the fact that no House Elf had appeared to take his coat.

_Personal service is going down the drain, here as well as everywhere else._

He marched angrily toward the living room, calling out the senior Elf's name.

"Deppo! Where the hell are you?"

Nothing happened, and _that _was really odd. The few times when he'd had to shout out the servant's name, the trembling creature had arrived before he even finished the phrase. House Elves were practically defined by their devotion to their masters, and his were no exception. He walked into the living room and stopped in surprise.

_Deppo!_

The Elf was thoroughly petrified. A solid bluish statue in his frozen likeness stood in the middle of the room. Cornelius' first impulse was to call out for the Auror outside, when he saw the other occupant of the room.

_Debora!_

His wife had been similarly hexed. She was sitting on the sofa with a vacant expression on her face. An icy feeling came over him.

_Someone is after me. I've got to get help._

"HELP!"

He was turning around and running for the door, when he heard the sound of laughter behind him. A crystalline and feminine sound. He hesitated but safety got the better of curiosity and he seized the door handle to jerk it open. Relief flooded him when it opened to reveal the young wizard who looked back at him with curiosity.

"Sir?" asked the Auror.

"Sound the alert! Someone got inside and petrified my wife and my Elf. I'm in grave danger."

Cornelius tried to get out of the flat, and into the lobby which was outside the anti-Apparation wards, but the man was blocking the way.

"Oh, I don't think so, sir," he said, smiling.

"What do you mean you don't think so?" exclaimed the Minister. "I'm telling you, not asking for your opinion. And please get out of the way. I'm not staying a minute more in this place."

"I'm sorry sir, but I can't let you leave," replied the Auror very politely. His relaxed manner was a complete contrast with the sense of menace Fudge was feeling.

That sense was turning into terror as he realized that the Auror was part of it. It meant that he was truly alone, and that no one would come to help him.

"Wh- What do you want?" he said in alarm. He fumbled for his wand, but had barely taken it out when it flew into the other wizard's hand.

"Me? Nothing. However, someone else wants to speak with you," said the Auror, storing the Minister's wand into his robes. Fudge felt completely helpless. He only hoped that they wouldn't dare kill him out of hand.

"Why are you do- doing this?" he said. "What do you mean, speak to me? Anybody can come to see me at the Ministry."

"Some people don't appreciate all the security fuss," replied the man pleasantly. He gestured toward the interior of the apartment. "If you please."

Fudge looked at him and saw that he had no choice. The Auror, if he really was one, held his own wand pointed toward him, and he looked ready to use it. If it came to a choice between fighting and talking, he would take talking without hesitation.

He turned around and went back inside, stumbling and turning his head frequently at the man who gave him silent directions with his wand. Instead of the living room, he was led to his private office. When he entered the room he saw the woman who had been laughing before. She was still amused, supposedly at his confused and frightened face.

"Good evening, Minister," she said in a rich and seductive voice.

He didn't remember ever having seen her before, and he would certainly not have forgotten it, because she was strikingly beautiful. So much in fact that he automatically felt less threatened. How could such beauty be associated with anything evil or dangerous? That was until he caught her eyes, which were dark and much less pleasant to look into. His fear returned.

"Who are you?" he managed to say.

"You do not know me, and there is no need for that to change," she said slowly. "But I know you. Oh yes, I know you very well indeed. What you are, and what you have done, Minister Cornelius Fudge."

Those words were not calculated to put him at ease, and they didn't. He was trapped and there was no way out that he could see.

"Why are you here? Wh- what do you want with me?" _What are you going to do to me?_

"So many questions, but this one at least is relevant. There is something I want from you." She chuckled. "Several things in fact, but right now, one is more important than the others."

"What is it?" he said with a glimmer of hope. If there was something he could do for them, then it would be all right. It had always been that way in his life. Trading services with others.

She passed him a sheaf of papers. He took it gingerly and fumbled for his glasses, almost dropping them from his trembling hands. After putting them on, he started reading, cautiously at first. It was a proposal for a new law.

_Some kind of financial and fiscal adjustment. All this, just to add a new loophole to benefit some self obsessed billionaire?_

That wasn't likely. It would have been much too easy to approach him directly and convince him with an appropriate argument. Fudge wasn't a difficult man to convince, even though he didn't like the word _bribe_. He preferred the term _contribution_. He continued reading and frowned as he realized that it wasn't even about a tax reduction. On the contrary it was a call for a new tax.

_Stranger still. Anything to increase the Ministry's resources would be most welcome. As if we weren't running the biggest deficit in decades._

He got to the second page and suddenly blanched. He reread the key passage to make sure it wasn't a mistake.

"Are you mad?" he exclaimed. He gestured with the papers. "This could start off a war or a depression. It would be political suicide to even talk of it!"

She burst out with renewed laughter.

"How melodramatic, my dear Minister."

"This is some kind of a joke," he insisted. "You can't be serious." He looked around, half expecting to see some of his friends come out of hiding and admitting that they had indeed, taken him for a ride.

Electra stopped laughing and her voice became much colder and menacing.

"On the contrary, I am very serious. You will announce this tomorrow, and it must come into effect before the end of the week."

"I will not!" he said, outraged. "You don't understand. It's impossible. It would be the end of my career, and even if I did, the next Minister would surely renounce it immediately."

"If you don't. It will be the end of your career in much less pleasant circumstances," she retorted.

"How dare you!" started Fudge, swelling in self-importance. "I will-"

"You will spend your retirement in Azkaban under multiple charges of corruption, and collusion with Dark Wizards," she interrupted.

Fudge gasped at the terrible words.

"This is preposterous! I have never-"

"Of course you did."

The words were spoken with such assurance that Fudge knew she wasn't bluffing. He didn't know _how_ she knew, he had always been careful to hide any evidence, but she did. It was no use pretending otherwise. He looked away, shaken.

"You'll never prove it," he said in a toneless voice.

"On the contrary. I have proof of your dealings with Lucius Malfoy, a convinced Death Eater, and of his relations with the one called Voldemort."

He shivered at the mention of that name. _How could it be? Nothing was ever recorded, and Lucius is dead._

"I don't believe you." He tried to sound firm, but there had been too many successive surprises for him to be sure of anything.

She smiled. A cold cruel smile which sent shivers down his spine, and she gestured toward the desk. He followed her gaze and recognized the characteristic shape of a pensieve.

"What-" he started to say, pointing toward the object. _It cant' be... They can't have done that!_

She nodded and broke into another round of laughter.

"Memories of Lucius Malfoy," she said, "of your conversations and ... exchanges."

She tapped the side of the pensieve with her wand, and two miniature figures materialized above the receptacle. No mistake could be made as to their identities.

Fudge felt dizzy with shock. Malfoy would never have done this of his free will. Wizard pledges could be used to insure that bribery would not turn into blackmail, and they had used those. But he had probably underestimated the power of the Dark Lord, who would not have been constrained by his minion's words. Whether Malfoy had been a willing participant or not was now a minor point.

They had him. His life was in ruin. He looked at Electra with despair on his face and she knew it as well. The man had been an unwitting ally before. He would now become a pliant tool.

"I will require guarantees-" he started weakly.

"Don't be ridiculous," she cut sharply. "You will take what we offer, and obey us without conditions, as long as we want." She smiled malevolently. "Besides, we'll take good care of you, even to defending your position as Minister."

He shivered. He understood very well. What would be the need to put someone in his place, if he did their bidding? And all the while allowing them to stay safely hidden. She nodded as she followed his reasoning. Desperate men could be unpredictable, but Fudge would be perfectly safe as long as he played along.

He looked at the tax proposal once again.

"Why do you want to do this? What is the justification?" She didn't respond immediately. "I have to present an argument," he insisted. "If they think I have lost my mind, they will become suspicious and your plan will not work."

Her smile turned cruel once more. He was squirming like a worm on a hook. A big fat juicy and stupid worm.

"Why should I help you?" she said. "After all, it is your job to make it convincing." _And your life is payment enough._

For a moment Fudge looked as if he was going to cry, and she became disgusted by the cat and mouse game. The man wasn't even a proper adversary. He was only a pitiful victim. She briefly wondered if he would try to confess to others, if she pushed him too far.

She moved quickly, and before he could jump back, she had her hand against his temple and cheek, almost like a caress. He suddenly felt hot and very much aware of her presence.

"The Ministry needs money. They have a lot. You can build a case from that. It should be enough."

Her eyes bored into his, and Fudge felt his will dissolve. He accepted this. He would find a way.

"Do not worry. This, and other things we'll ask you to do, are trivial acts compared to what you have already done." Her head jerked toward the pensieve on the desk. "You cannot get any deeper than you are, but right now, there are only two ways out. A shameful trial and life in Azkaban, or us."

She was right. These people were his only hope, his only possible allies. The two of them stayed close for a long moment, and then she snapped her fingers and disappeared, along with the pensieve. He didn't move for a minute, until he heard the sounds of his wife talking to the Elf in the living room. He listened to her moving in the hall, until she saw the light in his office and came to check on it.

"Here you are, my dear," she said. "I didn't hear you. Did you just come in?"

He looked at her and mumbled an automatic reply. She hadn't noticed, or she didn't remember, anything strange. He looked around the room, but everything was in order. It could well have been a dream, or a hallucination. His eyes went to the empty desk, and then to his hand which was still holding to a sheaf of papers.

He didn't have to look at them to know that it had been real.


	21. Chapter 20 Trouble

_Hermione reflects on what happened. The ripples from the previous actions continue to propagate. The Ministry passes a new law and indigested organic material impacts the rotating foils __of the air conditioning unit._

* * *

**_Chapter 20 – Trouble_**

_Hogwarts,_

Hermione spent the rest of Sunday morning in quiet reflection. The others were planning on visiting Hogsmeade after lunch. She told Harry that she wasn't going, but without giving him all the reasons.

They ate with Ginny and Ron at the Gryffindor table, but it was an awkward meal. Ron and Hermione weren't talking to each other, and Harry was so overly protective that the others were afraid to say something wrong. Hermione was lost in her thoughts, hardly looking at anybody, and not saying a word. She ate very little and, as soon as she decently could, left without a word, only touching Harry's neck in a brief caress. He followed her with his eyes for a moment and then quickly turned around to the others, ready to pounce on the first disparaging remark. He caught Ginny's concerned look and felt a pang of guilt.

_They don't mean her any harm. They're probably as worried as I am._

He threw a quick glance at Ron and corrected himself. His friend was stuffing his face with food as usual, and he seemed blindingly unconcerned about Hermione's state of mind. He figured that Ron was still holding a grudge against her because of her remarks. Although he didn't want to take position in their dispute, he had to admit that she'd been less than tactful on that one.

_But he was pretty mean to her._

It probably didn't mean anything. They'd had arguments before, and long periods of ignoring each other afterwards. It wouldn't last.

Over at the Slytherin's, Draco took a sip of pumpkin cider and considered the Gryffindor table attentively. He'd been released from the infirmary this morning. His ribs were still sore, and he was forbidden from doing any flying for two weeks, but he didn't really mind. As sir Comil had said, he had made his point in any case.

Ginny shot him a smile, which he returned. She kept throwing glances at Hermione and Harry. Following her gaze, Draco yearned to know what the matter with her was. He was subtle enough to realize that asking questions in public surroundings, and in Ron's hearing, would not be a good idea. He would wait for an appropriate occasion.

The meal was soon over and the students got up one after the other. Those planning to go to the village assembled near the entrance, where a sour faced Filch checked their authorizations. Harry seemed to be hesitating on whether or not to accompany the group. Ron was already in the queue with Luna. Ginny waited until she could speak with Harry out of his hearing.

"All right," she said. "What's wrong with her?"

He frowned, but the question was a legitimate one.

"I don't know." It was the truth after all, but she wasn't buying it.

"Harry, you spent the evening, the night and half of this morning together. You must have done some talking." Her eyes twinkled, and he blushed a little despite the worry he felt.

"She just needs to be by herself," he evaded.

He would have said more, if Hermione hadn't made him promise to keep the others out of it.

"Harry-"

"Don't press me, Ginny. I know you only want to help her. So do I. She's really upset, and all she wants is to ... think things over."

"What things?" she insisted.

Harry shook his head and saw Draco coming over out of the corner of his eye. He could sense that he was going to be drawn into a discussion he didn't want. It clinched his decision not to accompany them to the village. He gave Ginny an irritated look and turned away.

She swore under her breath. Draco didn't need to have overheard anything to understand what had happened.

"You pushed too fast," he said. "It would have been better to draw him out slow and gentle."

She whirled around, giving him the brunt of her frustration.

"He's my friend. I don't want to manipulate him! I want to know what the matter with Hermione is."

"Hey! That's not what I meant." _Damn that girl! Is she going to infect all of us with her craziness?_

Ginny calmed down somewhat, but she was still a little irked. It took him most of the trip down to Hogsmeade to get her smiling again, and by that time, he had stopped thinking altogether about Hermione Granger.

- - -

Meanwhile, said Hermione Granger was thinking about a lot of things. She had found a calm and isolated spot in the school library, which wasn't hard since most students thought there were better things to do on a Sunday afternoon, and she had started by listing all the points that she needed to address.

The most important item was Dumbledore's attitude. What he had done was, to put it simply, incredible. She had never felt such power before, not even when they had merged their magic that first time, in order to break to curse that was poisoning him. Perhaps the second one could compare with it, when all of Hogwarts had participated in the killing Voldemort, but of course she didn't remember.

She didn't remember because Dumbledore had erased her memory.

Hermione felt a chill as she realized how many of the Headmaster's actions were very difficult to understand, if not actually ambiguous.

_He's a great manipulator. He got us together. A dream team to destroy Voldemort, and now that's done with, he wants us to go back to being obedient students. We discovered and used a tremendous power, and he Obliviated us afterwards. He said that fighting anti Muggle sentiment was a priority, knowing how that would motivate me, and now he's pulled the plug on FOM._

Before that, a number of his actions had been hard to follow as well. Even Harry had doubted him more than once.

_Harry. He'll think I'm being paranoid, and maybe I am._

Let's look at it from the other side. What could Dumbledore want? He was clearly an enemy of Voldemort and of other Dark Lords like Grindelwald. He's acted to defend the right of minorities ...

_Wait a minute. That's not really true. He acted to defend individuals likes Hagrid, Remus or Dobby, but he's never challenged the status quo._

And he clearly didn't act against Fudge. Hermione was certain that the Minister of Magic wouldn't last a second, if the Headmaster wanted someone else to take his place.

_It's the same thing with Death Eaters like Lucius Malfoy. How could he act like that with me, and let Lucius get away with so much?_

The most likely explanation was that Dumbledore shared vital interests with the system of pureblood families. She remembered the discussion they'd had with Remus last summer. Old rituals, old families.

Suddenly, it was beginning to make sense, and it was very sobering. She had been slapped down because she was getting too close to important people. An enemy of Voldemort was not automatically a friend of Muggles. Take for instance Draco and Ginny's new friends.

_And Draco didn't get the hard treatment. Surely, Dumbledore knew what he was doing with Shrummer and Trevor. Why should he get permission, and not me?_

She thought that she knew the answer. It was because Draco's friends and Dumbledore were on the same side, and Amelia Bones wasn't.

All of the sudden, she felt very cold. She was confronting powerful interests, and it was probably very dangerous. Dumbledore didn't want her to be involved in this, and he could do whatever he wanted in Hogwarts. What had happened was clearly a warning. Until she was strong enough to fight them, she had better keep a very low profile, and not let anybody know that she suspected anything.

She heard a soft sound on her left, and immediately took out her wand in defense and turned toward the disturbance, crouching in a combat posture.

"Missy Hermione! Please!" said a cringing Dobby holding a plate of food. He was shaking like a leaf, and a glass of pumpkin juice was menacing to spill over. She relaxed and lowered the wand.

"I'm sorry Dobby. You startled me."

"No Missy Hermione, Dobby is very sorry. Dobby only brings food and drink for Missy Hermione. Missy Hermione is a great and strong witch, but she ate very little today, and Dobby is afraid that she will get weak."

She smiled her thanks and helped the Elf place the platter on the table. Actually she was thirsty and she took a large gulp of juice, under Dobby's approving look. A question entered her mind.

"How did you get here Dobby? I should have seen you coming from the entrance." _Apparation is impossible in Hogwarts, but is that only a restriction for humans?_

"Dobby is an Elf, and he knows how to move around discretely." He leaned closer to her and lowered his voice like a conspirator. "Normally, only slave Elves can do it, and only in their master's house, but Dobby learned how to do it everywhere." He puffed his chest in pride. "Dobby had to learn very strong Elvish magic in order to survive in the Malfoy's house."

She looked at him with fascination. What he had just said was extremely interesting. She couldn't leave Hogwarts, but he could, and it might prove very useful.

"I'm sure that you are a very powerful Elf Dobby," she said, smiling, "and I'm very happy that you are my friend."

The Elf beamed with pleasure.

"Missy Hermione is too kind. Dobby is only too happy to help Missy Hermione in any way she desires. Missy Hermione has only to ask."

"Thank you very much Dobby. You can be sure I will."

He disappeared, and Hermione reflected once more on how she could use his abilities for her purposes. She would need every edge she could get in the coming struggle.

_Because I'm not going to let them get away with it._

'Them' was Dumbledore, and his friends in the Wizengamot, and the teaching staff as well. She would lump them all together in this, at least until she learned more.

But she would need to be devious. She would let them think that they had succeeded in blocking her interest in wizard politics, so that they would ignore her. They would be distracted, and during that time, she would learn what they were doing, and why they were doing it.

_I'm not going to be able to do it alone._

Harry. The first order of business was getting Harry on her side. He would have to be convinced, and she had a good idea on how to do that. She got up and went to look for him, but before that she turned to a bookrack and quickly selected the volume she remembered being there. When she moved away, there was a new spring in her walk, and she immediately corrected it. She wasn't full of energy and resolve. She was hurt and angry, or so she should appear. It was not difficult for her to pretend such a thing, and it would be even easier in front of a teacher.

She went to the Gryffindor quarters and found that Harry was in the common room, playing cards with Seamus and Colin. He immediately shot her a questioning look which she forced herself to ignore. She walked toward one of the room's cupboard and fumbled inside, as if she was looking for something. Harry quickly left the game and walked toward her.

"Hi" he said softly.

She still looked upset, and he guessed that she was going to stay in a funk for a long time. He was almost getting ready to say something to shake her up, when she covertly directed his attention to a piece of paper in her hand. Something was written on it.

_Hagrid's hut, in one hour. We'll talk._

He looked at her with a frown and saw a flash of resolve in her eye. At the same time her hand moved toward her mouth, and she shook her head sharply. From a distance it would look that she was refusing something and biting her knuckles to keep from crying, but he saw her index finger cross her lips for an instant. It was clear that she was telling him to be discrete, but why?

He tried to read her face, but it was closed up now. She turned away and left the room, taking away a book from the cupboard. Everything fitted with the impression that she wanted to go away and be alone. Typical behavior for Hermione Granger when she was upset.

Harry played along, as if he had any choice. He sighed loudly and went back to the game, ignoring the looks of sympathy from his friends.

"She'll get over it," said Seamus softly. "She always bounces back."

"Yeah," replied Harry. "I guess you're right."

They resumed playing, but the cards couldn't hold his attention anymore. He gave it up after a while. He figured that it was still too early, but he just couldn't stay inside. He went to his dorm and recovered his broom from under the bed, then, after making sure that he was alone, he opened his chest and took out the invisibility cloak, which he slipped under his shirt. The last things he needed were some warm clothes, and he got that too. Coming down to the common room, he told the others that, if Hermione came back looking for him, he would be doing some flying outside.

He went out and did just that for twenty minutes, trying not to think of anything but of the sky, his broom and the magnificent view from above. When the hour was almost up, he dived behind the Quidditch storage shack, and quickly looked around. Seeing no one, he slipped the cloak over himself, and shot off in the direction of Hagrid's hut.

Since the big man had gone, it was unused and locked up, but of course that wouldn't stop any wizard from entering. Once again making sure that he was unobserved, he slipped inside where Hermione was waiting for him.

She'd cleared the central space and she was also preparing a potion. A cauldron was simmering over a very small smokeless fire. He recognized it from the equipment they'd bought for Grimauld Place. She had also taken out a bunch of blankets and pillows, and made a kind of crude nest on Hagrid's big sofa bed.

"Come in and lock the door," she said, pouring measures from the bubbling brew into two glasses.

He obeyed and added a special locking spell to make sure that no one would disturb them easily.

"Do you want me to put out some warning wards?" he asked.

"I already did that. If someone comes, we'll have time to put the evidence away. If that happens, you jump over there," she gestured toward the blankets, "and we'll just pretend to have been snogging the time away."

She was talking in that precise and decisive voice she had when she was in a middle of a project. He supposed that it meant she had fully recovered. Of course that didn't explain what all the activity and secrecy was about. He gestured toward the potion.

"What's that?"

She finished filling the glasses and carefully set them on the floor, and then she cleaned up the brewing instruments and stored them out of sight behind some of Hagrid's things. The place was so cluttered that it was very easy to hide things.

"This is the same mental enhancement potion Snape gave us when we did the merging against Voldemort," she replied. She sat cross legged on the floor and indicated that he was to do the same.

"Sit closer. We'll have to hold hands," she said.

He hesitated and his questioning look told her she was going to have to explain everything soon. She looked back and her expression was very earnest.

"I have a reason for doing all this Harry," she said. "I've been thinking. I don't like the conclusions, and I don't think you will either, but we need to be together. This is the only way I could think of to make you share what I feel."

He nodded, only half surprised. He'd seen it coming when she'd mentioned the potion. They could communicate silently, but a full mental rapport, like when they did it with the others, was something else.

"Do you think it will work?" He was curious, and a little skeptical. The last time, it had been the Six of them, and the Sorting Hat as well.

"If we really want it, yes I think it will." Her eyes were boring into his. "But if one of us holds back, then I don't know." He didn't flinch.

"I'll never hold back on you Mione. You know that," he said simply.

She didn't say anything and just handed him his glass. They drank the stuff. She reduced the lights and they held hands and closed their eyes. They remembered the routine, and the potion helped. It made them feel detached from their bodies, almost floating. It took a few seconds and then he began to feel her mind. A mix of sharp thoughts and intense emotions. She in turn could sense the raw power and reassuring strength of his will. There was something else as well. The sweet and warm feeling of their love for each other that was in the background of every thought.

They basked in each other's minds for a moment, and then Hermione replayed, as objectively as she could, the highlights of the Auror ceremony, and then her meeting with Dumbledore. She could feel Harry's shock and revolt. His reaction was so strong that it was threatening to break the telepathic link. She soothed him and reviewed her reflections in the library. He gasped at her conclusions, hardly following the part with Dobby, and then Hermione interrupted the rapport.

She looked at him with bright eyes. The recollection had been hard for both of them. In such an exchange, the emotions tended to echo back and forth and amplify. He was breathing deeply and still trying to calm himself.

"That- That's _crazy!_" he finally said.

He couldn't believe that the Headmaster would do such a thing, and yet he couldn't doubt what he had experienced. She made a gesture of helplessness.

"We have the same facts," she said. "How do you explain them?"

"He wanted to protect you?" he proposed. "Because it would be too dangerous?"

"More dangerous than Voldemort?" she countered. "And why won't he help Bones? Why does he let Draco and Ginny do their things? It doesn't make sense."

He shook his head, it was very confusing. Then there were the precautions she was taking. It was logical, but it reeked of paranoia. He told her so.

"I want to learn more," she replied, "but if they see us sniffing around, then they'll close the noose around us even more." Her face was serious. "I wouldn't be surprised if Dumbledore could hear anything said inside the school."

"And here?"

"It's somewhat outside, and then there's something else I thought of." He expressed curiosity and she went on. "Hagrid is half giant, and therefore very resistant to magic. His place might be better protected than others from Dumbledore's snooping." She shrugged. "Anyhow, if he can hear us in here, then I don't think we'll be able to hide anything anyway."

He went back to the thing that was the hardest to accept.

"I can't believe he's an enemy." He raised his hand before she could speak. "But I understand that it's difficult for you to trust him anymore." He sighed. It broke his heart to think this of the old wizard, which he still loved dearly.

"It's not just him," she added. "He's very powerful, but he's clearly afraid of other forces. I can't imagine what they are."

Harry looked down and tried to find an alternative to her conclusions. None of this made sense, but he knew that she was sincere, and he trusted her.

"I think that we need more information before making definitive judgments," he said finally. "You may be right, but things might still be more complicated than we think."

She held his gaze. The most important thing was that he was ready to go along with her. Her thoughts must have showed because he looked at her sadly.

"You were afraid that I would take position for him and against you?" he said. She gave him a wry smile and he shook his head. "I'm with you all the way Mione. You know that," he said, looking right into her eyes.

She lowered her head.

"Sorry for being a bossy, annoying girl," she said demurely.

"Does that mean you'll never do it again?" he said with a grin.

"No." She chuckled, and then she turned serious again. "But I want us to be prepared."

"So what do you want to do?"

She told him of her plan, and she explained the reasons. He didn't like it, but he could see she had a point. If they were wrong about Dumbledore, then no real harm would be done. If it came to the worse, they would be in a situation to salvage something.

"How good an actor do you think you are?" she asked.

"Awful."

"Then you'll let me do most of it. All you have to do is commiserate, and spend as much time as possible with me."

"It could be worse."

- - -

As it happened, the first class of the next day was Transfiguration. Hermione usually sat on the first or second row, and she was always an active participant. This time however, she took a seat toward the back, not very far from the door. Ron had gone straight to their usual spot, and found himself largely isolated since Harry decided to sit next to Hermione, and Draco was already paired with another Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall frowned at the unusual arrangement, and at the cold face on her favorite pupil. She'd expected some kind of rebellion, since Hermione had never been one to accept constraints lying down, and she would wait for it to pass. She hadn't talked with the Headmaster, actually no one had seen him for two days, but she supposed that he had simply expressed his displeasure at her extra-scholar activities, and called her back in line. She wasn't aware of the details of the affair, but she fully agreed that students had no business with Ministry officials. A reprimand had been delivered. It was never pleasant, but it happened. End of story.

"Today," she said, "We are going to discuss successive Transfigurations. This is a key technique for realizing complex transformations."

The students dutifully started taking notes. Hermione wrote as well, but not with her usual intensity. Harry glanced at her and saw that she was just jotting down key words, not even bothering to align them properly.

"Can anyone tell me when, and for what specific kind of transformations, this method was first developed?" asked McGonagall.

No one seemed to know the answer, and heads turned naturally toward the one student who could be counted on to display this kind of esoteric knowledge. Hermione stayed put and stared blandly at the blackboard. The professor looked at her as well and showed a slight disappointment at the lack of response. She pursed her lips and turned toward Dean Thomas.

"Mister Thomas. Do you have any idea?"

"I don't know when it was Ma'm, but I think it was for complex mechanical devices."

"Is that an answer or a guess, Mister Thomas?" she replied severely.

"Er, it's a guess. I don't really know."

"Well, it is a wrong guess, Mister Thomas." She surveyed the room again. "Is there none among you who know anything about this?" No one replied. She faced Hermione again. "Miss Granger. I'm surprised that you don't have anything to say."

Hermione said nothing and McGonagall went on.

"Well it was Imhotep, the first great Egyptian wizard, who pioneered the procedure of decomposing the Transfigurations of animals," she said. "The idea being of course, to simplify the number of changes to make at each steps."

Hermione showed no reaction. She had opened a large book, and she shared her attention between its content and quick glances at the blackboard. The class continued and McGonagall was first annoyed, and then seriously irritated at Hermione's passivity. During the whole class, she barely managed to get a few words out of her, although she gave correct answers whenever she deigned speak up. Her practical work was excellent as usual, but once she succeeded in an exercise, she would stop there and return to reading her book. McGonagall frowned and stopped by the girl's desk to look at it. Her lips lost some color when she took a glance at the title: _Advanced Transfiguration - beyond the NEWT program._

The tension in the classroom became more and palpable as it became evident that a) Hermione already knew everything that the professor was telling them, and b) she considered that she was just wasting her time. The first had been suspected before, but she had never flaunted as cheekily as today. The second thing was completely inconceivable.

When the class was finished, professor McGonagall hesitated before asking Hermione to stay and explain herself. Had it been any other student, it would have been automatic, but she found herself hampered by her affection for the girl. She had let her guard down and she was deeply hurt by the implied rejection. By the time she could decide how to address the problem, Hermione had left the classroom.

It was the same with the other classes, although since Hermione's relations with most teachers weren't as close as with McGonagall, it was less blatant. Nevertheless all professors remarked the change, with reaction ranging from incomprehension and puzzlement to annoyance and resentment. Some went so far as to make disparaging remarks, which Hermione received with unfailing indifference. Only in one particular class did the routine remained unchanged. Professor Snape was quite happy with having students work silently and efficiently, and as long as Hermione did her assigned work correctly, her lack of participation suited him perfectly. If anything he was relieved not to have to listen to what he considered her wordy display of erudition.

That night, as they came back to the Gryffindor Tower, after Hermione had gone up to her bed without a word, Ron turned toward Harry and finally demanded to know what was going on.

"What's the deal with her?" he asked. Ginny's face expressed the same question.

Harry had already decided that he was going to stay friendly with Ron, but that he would evade any discussion concerning Hermione. At least until her and Ron had resolved their differences. In his mind it was a minor thing, but annoying all the same, and it gave him a perfect out with his friend.

He explained as much to Ron, who reacted characteristically by moving way and mumbling about how complicated girls were, except for Luna, who was perfect. Ginny was harder to get rid of, but she didn't press as much as she might have. She figured on cornering Hermione in the girls' dormitory and getting her answers directly.

When the two Weasleys finally left him alone, and just as he was relaxing into his favorite chair next to fire, Harry found Alicia standing in front of him.

"Harry, can I talk to you for a moment?" she asked.

He sighed, but he smiled and indicated that she could. They hadn't talked much last term, but ever since their passage at Grimauld, he'd come to appreciate her cheerfulness and energy. Everyone thought that it was a good thing for Silena to be friends with her and her brother. The three of them had taken for their own the moniker 'trio' which had until now belonged to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"I heard that you got into trouble already," he said mischievously.

She frowned and shot him a dark look. The older students were always teasing the younger ones.

"Well, I know that you and Ron got detention in your first year too," she retorted. "So there's no need to sound so superior."

Harry chuckled. He was glad to banter about something lighthearted for a change. Things were getting all too serious around this place.

"So, Moony caught you out?" he said, automatically using the man's nickname. "What were you doing out there by the way?"

"Er, I'd rather no go into that," she evaded.

Her expression suddenly changed as she recognized the word he had used. It was written on the first page of the _Marauder's Guide_. They had figured it must have been the pen names of the original writers: _Moony, Prongs, Padfoot _and _Wormtail_.

She looked at Harry and wondered how much he knew about that. She had originally wanted to ask him questions about professor Lupin. He was Harry's legal guardian after all, so he had to know some things about the man. She realized that he probably knew even more than she hoped.

"Why do you call him _Moony_?" she asked.

Harry was a little surprised at her question. At first he was ready to give the full story. After all, something that had happened more than twenty years ago could not be very important, and then he remembered that Remus was a professor, and it might not be a very good thing for his students to know what mischief _he _had been doing in his time.

"Er, because he's a werewolf," he answered with some hesitation. "So, you know. _Moony_ - the moon."

She nodded absently, as if it wasn't very important to her, but she had noted the hesitation and the trace of uneasiness.

"So it's just a nickname, like _Padfoot_ or _Prongs_," she said as innocently as she could.

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Where did you hear these names?" he asked briskly.

She looked back at him with an expression of triumph._ So he knows as well. Bingo!_

"I'll tell you, if you tell me everything you know about the _Marauders_," she countered.

He looked at her for a moment. He was astonished and plainly trying to decide on what to do. On the one hand he had already decided that this was confidential, and that he didn't want to cause any trouble for Remus. On the other hand she already knew a lot. Maybe she had even stumbled on something which could concern his father.

And then he found that he really wanted to talk about this.

"I'll tell you," he finally said, "but you must promise not to speak of this with anyone else."

"Except Richard and Silena," she corrected. He agreed, guessing that she would share these things like he had with Ron and Hermione.

"As a matter of fact it might be better that I speak with them all," he said. "We'll do that tomorrow."

"Can't you just give me little tiny bit tonight?" she pleaded. "You know, like a goodnight story?"

She tried to pout her mouth and batted her eyelashes. It was hilarious and Harry just had to laugh. She looked vexed at first, and then she laughed with him. It felt great to release some of his tension that way. He grinned and ruffled her hair. She moved her head to escape the patronizing gesture, and that was when he saw that she had a rather unusual necklace. It was just thin leather string on which what appeared to be a pair of miniature black boots was attached by a small metal ring. He thought that it was an odd choice of jewelry, even for an eleven year old girl, but then what did he know about it?

"Harry please?" she asked again.

He knew he was going to give in to her, but he waited just a bit for the fun of it.

"Okay. I'll tell you who _Padfoot_ and _Prongs_ are." She jumped in excitement and let out a little squeal. Seeing her face, he just couldn't resist anymore. He knew right then that tomorrow, he would be telling them a lot more. One of the reasons was that it made him feel so good to talk about his father. By telling the story to a new generation, he would be keeping alive the memory. It wouldn't bring back the dead, but it would still be something.

"_Prongs_ was my father and _Padfoot_ was my Godfather, Sirius Black. The names were chosen because they were Animagi. My father could change into a stag, and Sirius into a dog."

She was fascinated. She wanted to ask a million other questions, but she knew that Richard and Silena deserved to hear it all with her. There was just one last question.

"And what about _Worm_-" she began. She stopped when she saw his face twist into a frightening snarl.

"NO!" he barked. He paused and took a deep breath before continuing. "Don't say that word please. Not to me and not to Rem-, to professor Lupin."

"I'm sorry!" she said automatically. Harry's reaction had been frightening. He was always so nice and easygoing with everybody, but in his eyes there had been more hatred than she'd ever seen before.

He looked at her and realized that he was going to have to give her some more explanation.

"It's okay, you couldn't know that story." He sighed. "Well, lets just say that _Wormtail_," he spat out the word, "was their friend, but he betrayed my parent to Voldemort. His real name was Peter Pettigrew."

"Oh yes," she replied. "I remembered reading about him." She wanted to know what had become of him, but she didn't dare ask anything more. Harry guessed her thoughts, and he decided that he might as well finish that story. The happy mood he had felt before had turned to sadness.

"He's dead, he became a Death Eater and he died like the rest of them." _I guess that I killed him, in a sense._

She nodded soberly.

"I'm really sorry Harry," she said very gently. "Thank you for telling me all that. I hope that you and professor Lupin will tell us more stories about your father and your godfather."

He nodded sorrowfully, but her words were kind and it helped.

"Yes," he breathed, forcing a sad smile. "I think we'd like to do that."

She smiled back and made to leave.

"Good night, Harry."

"Good night, Alicia."

- - -

_Ministry of Magic,_

Amelia Bones got Dumbledore's letter on Monday morning. It had actually arrived much sooner, but she didn't believe in having official mail delivered at her home. She gave a lot of her time to the Ministry, and her family had sacrificed much more than that, and so she felt that the weekends were sacred, except for emergencies.

So the first time she saw the envelope was when she entered her office, early in the day. It was sitting in the middle of her blotter on her large wooden desk. The Hogwarts seal very much in evidence. As soon as she saw it, she guessed that it would be bad news.

The text was short and left no room for nuance. Hermione Granger was pulling out of the FOM project. Her first reaction was bitter disappointment and annoyance. Why couldn't that stupid girl make up her mind? Then, rereading the letter, she noted some strange characteristics in the handwriting. It was strangely familiar, and then not at all what she remembered of those documents which the young student had sent her. It took her only a few minute to check this and recognize the writer as the Hogwarts Headmaster.

_But the signature is Granger's._

The parchment was warded against forgery which meant that Hermione Granger had effectively read and signed the letter of her own free will, or under the _Imperius_ charm. Bones didn't believe Dumbledore would use an Unforgivable against a student, so she had to accept the letter as genuine, along with the added information that the Headmaster didn't want the girl to participate in what they had discussed. It was a severe setback for her plans.

Amelia Bones dropped the letter on her desk, and she sat back against the back of her chair to think about this new development. When Granger had talked to her, and proposed this cooperation, she had been quick to detect the revolutionary appeal of her initiative. This was truly something which could inflame opinions among the magical world, and lead to needed adjustments.

One of the changes she considered to be more than necessary was to do away with the conservative mindset of most wizards and witches. To many of them, the status quo was fine, as were the relations with other magical species, and Muggles. They would privately agree that the situation was not perfect, but that any modification would upset a fragile equilibrium and lead to disorder, and ultimately to further trouble and injustice. The more enlightened of them, and she placed the Hogwarts Headmaster in that category, aimed for a gradual evolution of mentalities.

She believed that the slow and sure way wouldn't work, because too many forces were actively resisting against that, using fear as a powerful weapon. For a time it had been the risk of weakening wizard society in its struggle against You-know-Who, and now it was fear of giving too much power to some minorities.

As long as it was a zero sum game, the risk of losing what they had was keeping most wizard folks from accepting change, but FOM was something else. It was ambitious enough to make people dream of a better world, and to give most of them the hope of gaining something worthwhile, except for a few aristocrats who would lose a little power and influence. It was a truly revolutionary manifesto and she was confident that it could jumpstart a real change. Certainly many decent wizards would support it.

_And it could start within the Wizengamot and the Ministry._

Amelia Bones did not want a bloody, rise of the masses, revolution. She believed in the importance of leadership, and that the current organization was adequate. It was the minds and the men who had to be changed.

Fudge was a mediocre Minister. He was so ineffectual that in practice, he let most powerful forces act as they wanted. They were only checked by each other, and by the threat of defensive coalitions. It was a recipe for chaos and she was privately convinced that only chance, and she had to admit, Dumbledore with his students, had kept You-Know-You from wining the war and establishing a terrible and bloody dictatorship.

_But now it looks like he wants to go back to just being a Headmaster. _

It was plain however that his students wanted to continue, and that the old man had cast a _Finite_ on their ambitions. That was really too bad, but did she really need them? Ultimately she did, but maybe not at first. FOM was an idea. It could be used by her or by others, and if she won the first battle with it, then the Headmaster could probably be convinced to relent on his veto.

_But I need other allies. I cannot just do it alone._

What about that other woman? The Muggle one. She was part of the project, so her presence would lend some credibility to the endeavor. Furthermore, her not being a wizard would be a powerful symbol in itself. It could well be enough for a start.

- - -

_Imperial College,_

Helen was working in her lab. She was supervising her latest experiments which involved the testing of a new generation of a wide spectrum antibiotic. She was preparing a set of Petri dishes with several types of bacteria. They would be used to make cultures upon which the product could be tested, in various dosages and under several conditions. It was routine work. The interesting part was designing the experiment, and interpreting the results.

"Helen," said a young man from the door. "Visitor for you."

She looked up in surprise. She wasn't expecting anybody. Visitors were rather rare during the day, and most people would call before coming in person to see her.

"Who is it, Tim?"

Timothy Dayton was one of her colleagues, and co-player in role play. He was quite younger than her and just starting his thesis.

"I don't know. Strange fellow. Black."

"Black?" She couldn't help showing a little expectation in her question as she wondered if it might be Severus. He certainly would find it easier to Apparate near the place than to find, or use, a working phone.

Tim caught the hopeful glean in her eyes. Most of her friends had noticed the little signs which betrayed a developing romance. They all knew that she was a widow, and most of them thought that it was high time for her to find someone else. He shook his head.

"Nope, not that one," he said with a grin. He had been one of the players when the strange dark man had burst into their room. "I meant black as in dark skin color. The rest of his clothes are rather pretty colorful."

She didn't see who it could be. _Colorful clothes pretty much ruled Severus out. _She thanked him and finished quickly before going down. Near the entrance, she saw her visitor. It was not the Hogwarts professor. In fact it was someone very different, but she sensed some of the strangeness that Tim had mentioned. That man could very well be a Wizard.

"Mrs. Parker?" said the man, very politely.

"Yes," she replied with a questioning expression.

"I am very sorry to bother you, Mrs. Parker. My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt. I work with Amelia Bones." He waited until she nodded in recognition. "She needs to talk with you. I'm afraid that it is rather urgent."

"Talk to me? Now?" said Helen in surprise. "I can give her a few minutes of course, but I'm afraid that I have a lot of things to do today and I couldn't-"

"I can have you back here in half of an hour. Would that be all right?" He gave her a very nice smile. "We would really appreciate it," he added.

She asked him for a few minutes of preparation, and returned to the lab to arrange for the rest of the setup to be finished by one of her co-workers. When she came back, she had taken her coat. He guided her outside to a discrete spot.

"I have a Portkey," he said, showing her a piece of braided rope. "We'll arrive directly at her office."

Helen remembered Portkeys, having used them before. She didn't get to have a look at the fascinating interior of the Ministry of magic. She knew about it of course, but she had never been there before. They materialized directly into Amelia Bones' office, which was not that different from the office of Muggle senior public servants, except for the moving pictures on the walls.

"Mrs. Parker, thank you very much for coming," said Bones, rising from her chair. "I know that you are busy, and I will not keep you long." She turned toward the Auror. "Thank you very much for bringing her in, Kingsley. You have been as efficient as usual."

It was a dismissal and the big man knew it. He raised his hand to his brow in an easy salute and made to leave.

"I'll be around when you need me for the return journey," he said, turning and closing the door.

Bones wasted no time in explaining the changed situation to Helen, and what she wanted of her. For her part, the younger woman was both fascinated and enthralled by the perspective of working officially with the Ministry, and alarmed that Hermione had been taken out of the picture. She tried to explain that the girl was the real inspiration behind the association, but Bones dismissed her objection with a wave of her hand.

"That may be true, but the most important thing is to have someone else than me to represent FOM. It could have been Miss Granger, and maybe I will be able to make Albus Dumbledore change his mind, but for the moment you can play that role." She marked a pause. "Actually, in addition to that, you have the advantage of having no special relationship with the school."

A little warning light lit up in Helen's head. Did her involvement with Severus count as something in that respect?

"What do you mean 'no special relationship'?" she asked. Bones looked back with a slight frown.

"I mean that you have no special association with members of the Hogwarts staff. Since the Headmaster obviously doesn't approve this project, it is vital that there be no conflict of interest."

Helen didn't like where this was going, but she wanted things to be clear from the start. Dumbledore's attitude was already a cause for concern, and there was no need to add any complications. She explained her relationship with Severus Snape, and the work they had done together.

"Ah yes, the Head of Slytherin House," sniffed Bones with a slight grimace. It was not clear whether she was more bothered with the symbol it represented, or by the hurdle she sensed was coming.

"I am afraid that it could be a problem yes," she said, looking Helen in the eye. She knew where this was probably going, but she had to ask anyway. Mentally, she damned the Hogwarts Headmaster once again.

For Helen it was as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head. One minute, she was being promised a stimulating participation in a project which motivated her greatly. The next, she was shown the price tag, and it was suddenly much too high.

"I don't think that my private life should have anything to do with this," she answered coldly.

"It's not a question of your private life. It's your cooperation in a school related project," replied Bones. She stopped her from interrupting. "I understand that it is not officially that, but if your cooperation in that potion project becomes known, you will be considered to be tainted."

She looked at Helen and wondered if there was anything to salvage from the whole mess.

"Can I ask you to think about this, and even discuss it with professor Snape, before deciding?" she proposed. "Perhaps we could all come to a clear understanding of everyone's position."

Helen wasn't so sure, but she nodded silently. At least she didn't have to give a definite answer right now.

"I will contact you Friday," she said. "How can I do that by the way?"

Bones frowned, until she realized that Helen was a Muggle, and that she had no Owl or floo connection.

"I will have Kingsley drop by at your work, if that is agreeable to you."

"Yes, that would be fine," said Helen. "Thank you very much, and ... I'm really sorry for all these complications."

It was plain that Bones was disappointed and upset, but she made an effort to put a good face on it.

"As a woman, I understand your position," she said, "and I would probably do the same in your shoes. I cannot help but wish however, that you and Miss Granger had thought out and prepared things a little more before contacting me."

Helen grimaced and said nothing. The Ministry official was completely right and she knew it.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Harry was made to come through with his promise to Alicia. He didn't even get the chance to do his morning run first. She had been waiting in ambush, while Richard and Silena had prepared his place at the Slytherin table. With a straight face, they explained that it was a perfect time for them to talk, with few students about because of the early hour. He let himself be dragged to the dining hall. They hovered around him in a way which reminded him of Dobby, pouring him a cup of tea, a glass of juice, and buttering rolls. It was so cute, that he didn't even pretend not to appreciate their efforts.

"Okay, what do you want to know?" he asked. "And can I have some sugar please?"

"Everything of course," said Richard.

As the boy lean over the table to pass him the sugar bowl, Harry noticed a miniature bowler hat attached to a string around his neck. It reminded him of Alicia's miniature boots. Following a hunch he looked closely at Silena and saw that she too, had a pendant like the other girl.

"Where did you get those?" he asked.

"Er, it's a gift actually," said Richard, his hand automatically moving to hide the thing.

The way he said it, and the sudden defensive looks on the girl's faces, told Harry that there was something more to it than a simple present.

"Is that all?" he said with a grin. "I thought we were going to exchange secrets this morning."

Richard and Silena looked doubtful. Alicia looked at her brother and caught his eye.

"We can tell him. It's give and take after all."

Richard grimaced. He didn't see what harm it could do to let Harry know about the twins helping them, but he was wary of Hermione. He didn't expect prefects or teachers to approve what they were doing, and they had already lost the manual. He looked Harry in the eye.

"Fair's fair, but you keep it a secret, from _everybody_. I don't want more of our stuff to be confiscated."

Harry had to smile at that. He understood exactly what they meant, and he remembered what had happened with the Marauder's map. He swore secrecy and they explained about the name they had chosen. He remembered the old TV series nodded in appreciation at their idea. They talked for a while, but they didn't have the time to share all their secrets. He told them what he knew of the Marauders, and if anything, that amplified the three children's objective to leave as strong a legacy as they did. They explained how Fred and George gave them a riddle to solve, which led to the discovery of the _Marauder's Guide_.

"I want to read that book," said Harry feelingly. _The bloody twins. They knew about this, and they didn't tell me._

"Well, professor Lupin has it now," said Alicia. "I just hope he'll give it back to us one day."

"But maybe it would be easier if you had a word with him," added Richard shrewdly. "After all, it's your father's too."

Harry exploded in laughter. He could understand why the kid was in Slytherin.

"Are you trying to manipulate me?" he asked. Alicia puffed and Richard looked chagrined.

"No, of course not. I'm just looking for the best objective solution," he said with as much dignity as he could.

"Okay. I'll see what I can do. Don't worry too much about Moony. He'll be on your side, but remember that he's a teacher, and that professor Snape will not be as lenient."

They nodded, and the look on Richard and Silena's faces showed that they understood that very well. They talked a little more, until too many students started to come down, including Hermione. They would have liked to share more, but all in all, they had learned a lot, and they were now really looking forward to that detention.

Hermione sat down next to the four of them. They greeted each other cheerfully, but the three youngsters stood up shortly afterwards. They left the hall, running excitedly away.

"You looked to have had a nice conversation," she said. "How are they doing?"

"Just fine," said Harry with a smile "They're really doing fine."

- - -

The next days saw a growing strain among the staff and the students, as Hermione's behavior drove every teachers, except Snape, to distraction. She continued to practice her prefect duty with the same non-nonsense attitude as before. Applying the school rules with pitiless efficiency cost her some popularity among the students, but she made up some of this by pursuing any bully, most particularly those from pureblood families, with a vengeance and an efficiency which earned her the sympathy of their victims and of most Hufflepuffs.

Relations among the Six had stabilized to a kind of uneasy truce. Hermione and Ron were still giving each other the cold shoulder, and she and Draco were more polite than really friendly together, but at least there was no more bickering, and Hermione did not pick up on sensitive subjects anymore.

She had also organized OWL revisions sessions for the fifth year students, something which everyone appreciated. Luna and Ginny welcomed it as an occasion to spend more time with her and try and get at the source of her trouble, but Hermione was doing it for more than one reason. She felt it was her duty, she liked it and it was another opportunity to irk the teachers in a manner that they couldn't address directly. That last justification was part of her plan to get back at _them_, and it gave her a perverse joy to use school work for that.

Ron was indifferent, or at least pretended to be. Ginny and Luna didn't understand what was going on, but they just hoped for things to get better. Draco watched it all carefully, but he was determined not to interfere for the moment. The six of them did enough things together to still be considered a group, but something precious was missing. The complicity that they had once shared was now gone, replaced by the routine of living and working under the same roof.

Unfortunately, the adults who could have helped them were not available. It was the full moon, and a bad one for Remus, Hagrid was away, Severus was locked up in his thoughts, Minerva was hurt and annoyed, and the Headmaster was invisible.

- - -

_Ministry of Magic, Thursday morning,_

Fudge arrived at his customary hour and immediately isolated himself in his office. Everyone had found him abnormally nervous for the past days, and for no obvious reasons. Actually, since Electra's visit, he had been dreading the moment when he would have to do her biding. He kept delaying the publication of the new law, all the while telling himself that surely they would understand that it was impossible, and maybe that they would just give up. He tried to believe it, but he couldn't ignore the terrifying threat she had made.

Yesterday, he had talked with Arthur Weasley, who was fully involved into delicate discussions with the Goblins. The man had taken on his new job with renewed energy, and everything was going rather well. The Minister had to admit that Shrummer's choice had been sound. Arthur had established new relations of trust with his Goblin homologues. A number of thorny issues had been placed on the table and were being addressed one after the other. Fudge had acknowledged the good work absently and quickly gone away. Arthur had shaken his head in puzzlement, and decided that he would not waste time trying to understand the man.

A chime from the floo terminal started Fudge from his reverie. The face of his secretary appeared.

"What is it?"

"Mrs. Umbridge wants to see you, sir," said Marge. "Something very urgent she says."

He sighed. _Urgent. Everything is always urgent around here._

"All right, let her come in."

Umbridge had only recently recovered from her depression after her tenure at Hogwarts. There had been some talk of disciplinary action against her, but she had powerful friends, and they had managed to plead her case efficiently. In a spirit of letting bygones be bygones, she had been reinstated in the Ministry, although to a secondary post in an obscure sub-department. The demotion had not done anything to improve her mood.

She entered the office and marched toward him with a disquieting look on her toad like face. She was holding a leaf of papers in her hand.

"Hum hum, Minister," she said. "I have here a case that needs to be closed as soon as possible. It fact it is already running very late."

He frowned at the bother of it all. What good was it being the Minister if he had to handle every specific problems?

"What is it Dolores?"

She handed him the papers with a piercingly hard expression. A chill of apprehension ran through him as he suddenly imagined what it could be.

_It's not possible. She couldn't ..._

Apprehension turned to terror as he recognized the same proposal Electra had given him.

"But, but ..."

"Now Minister," she said, her eyes boring into his. "Not later, not tomorrow. Now."

He tried to argue, but she cut him down and showed him that she knew everything Electra did. He was to sign the proposal this instant and she would have it published within the hour. Despite his squirming, he was forced to accept. He scrawled his signature on the last page with a trembling hand. She snatched the papers from the desk and left him, alone and stunned, to contemplate the irreversible and devastating consequences of what he had been made to do.

Umbridge left Fudge's office and marched determinedly to the general secretary room. She gave the papers to a young wizard, instructing him to have it published in the official journal of the Ministry. It would be relayed to the _Daily Prophet_ and other newspapers automatically the next day, but this would make it official, and it would also inform all other official magical organizations.

The wizard checked that the Minister's signature was valid and marked the document for processing. He didn't bother reading the content. Most of this stuff was incomprehensible anyway, and it wasn't his job to form an opinion. He did see that it required a proper publication number which would have to be delivered by the Minister's private staff. He placed a floo call.

"Yes?" answered Percy, putting down the cup of tea he had just poured himself.

"Dickens here, sir. There's a new law ready for announcement, and I need a reference number for it."

"What's the subject?"

The wizard looked at the headers.

"Uh, finance. Yes that's it. A new tax it seems."

"Oh, those have a special circuit now," replied Percy. "I'd better do it myself. Just give me the documents and I'll handle it."

"Thank you sir. Here it is."

Percy took the sheaf of paper as it emerged from the floo terminal. He closed the connection and started reading, while sipping his tea. When he got to the last page, he chocked in surprise and spilled liquid all over his desk.

_Merlin!_

He cleanup up the papers as best as he could, and reread the text of the proposal to make sure that he wasn't mistaken.

_I've got to warn Dad. This is crazy. Oh Merlin! He's at Gringotts, and it's always infernal to call anybody over there with those darn security measures._

He would have to go to the bank in person. He started to get up when he saw the squat figure in the doorway.

"Please sit down, Mister Weasley," said Dolores Umbridge.

She was holding her wand in her hand, pointed right at his chest. She stepped into the office and closed the door.

"What does-"

"_Stupefy!_"

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Minerva McGonagall was not renowned for her patience. Courage yes, and competence of course, but the stern professor was not the kind to wait calmly for things to get well. During her many years of teaching, she had lived through a lot of grief, and seen her share of hard headed and rebellious students. Perhaps she was getting old, or too involved, but Hermione Granger was driving her over the wall.

Her determined and clacking steps took her along the corridor to the Headmaster's office. She was seething with anger while reviewing the latest outrage. That pesky girl had quite simply refused to answer a direct question concerning her support lessons, explaining instead that it didn't concern the _official_ work of the teachers. And on top of everything else, Dumbledore was still holed up in his quarters. No one had seen him since Saturday, since he'd had his so called 'getting things right' meeting with the girl.

_He must know something. He will tell me, or he will have to find another Transfiguration teacher..._

She called out the password in an imperious voice. Vowing to find him if she had to search the entire castle. She looked critically at the stone gargoyle, daring it to remain immobile. It took a few seconds but the statue finally trembled and moved, opening the way to the staircase. McGonagall stepped briskly on the first step, and once more, her shoes resounded sharply against the hard surface. She walked right into the inner office, only stopping before the Headmaster's desk.

"Albus! What have you done to that girl?" she asked without preliminaries at the seated figure. She saw no need to explain who she was talking about.

Dumbledore looked back with more calm than he felt. He had been expecting something like that, but it didn't make it any easier.

_Action begets reaction, and I haven't seen the end of it._

"And a good day to you too, Minerva," he replied tranquilly. He had been swearing to himself _never again_ to lose his temper. The last thing he needed right now, was to alienate more friends.

"Good day, Albus," she replied, momentarily taken aback. She took a deep breath and continued stiffly. "Please forgive my manners, but I believe I am due an explanation." Her eyes were still flashing in anger, and she was not going to be distracted from her goal.

Dumbledore had already decided that the less he said, the better. The confusion he had felt from Snape after that last explanation, made him think that no one would appreciate what the stakes were, and it would only complicate matters to have more people interfere.

_And it doesn't have anything to do with the school anyway._

He looked back at the Transfiguration teacher.

"What has happened, Minerva?" he asked.

"She's become impossible, that what happened!" she exclaimed. "She refuses to speak up in class, except when addressed directly, and then only with the minimum possible answer. She looks at me, and the other teachers, as if we were prison wardens. She-"

He interrupted her.

"How is her school work? Does she neglect her prefect duties?"

"Her work is perfect as usual," replied McGonagall, biting off the words. "There is nothing I can fault her with."

"Is she insolent? Disrespectful?"

"Yes, and no." She shook her head angrily. "Albus, don't play games with me. You know what I am talking about. You did something to her, and she is getting back at all of us because of it. And she is doing it in such a way that we cannot accuse her of anything without being so evidently unfair that everyone will see it." She marched nervously in front of the desk. "Tensions are rising every day, and I do not know what to do anymore."

"I have always said that the girl-" started Phineas from his picture. He stopped himself when Dumbledore shot him a furious glance. "All right, all right. Handle this yourself. I will not bother you anymore. _Sir_." The former Headmaster stood up from his seat, took his coat with deliberate dignity and walked off from the picture frame. Dumbledore counted slowly to ten.

_Calm. I must remain calm. Every problem has a solution, and time is often the best way to find one._

"Minerva. I think that what is really needed is to let things cool down," he said finally, projecting as much confidence as he could. He ignored her hard stare and continued. "I confess to having been a little hard to her, and such a reaction is to be expected. I am sure that if we ignore it, things will return to normal in a little while."

She looked back at him shrewdly. In all the years they had spent together, she could sense when he was firmly in control, and when he was worried. She also knew that he rarely expressed things straightforwardly.

"Albus, I know that you are hiding something from me, and I do not like it."

"Minerva I-"

At that moment the fireplace lit up with the flickering green flames of a floo call. Both of them turned to see the disembodied face of Arthur Weasley. The usually good natured man was exceptionally agitated

"Albus! I need your help," he said quickly.

Dumbledore was at first quite relieved to have something, anything, interrupt the painful conversation he was having. Whatever the emergency was, the man's need was a godsend.

"What is it, Arthur?" he asked politely.

"The Goblins are threatening to revolt!"

Dumbledore gentle face first froze in shock, and then it suddenly mirrored the alarm visible on his friend's face. A Goblin revolt was not an emergency. It was a full blown catastrophe. The last time such a thing had happened, thousands of people, of both races, had died, and the property losses had been immense.

"Where are you?"

"I'm at Gringotts. We were in a routine meeting when the news of Fudge's new law was announced. The Goblins are furious. They won't believe that I knew nothing of it."

"What are you talking about? What new law?"

Arthur swallowed and regained his breath before answering.

"Fudge called for a new tax on all Gringotts transactions. One Sickle per Galleon. Completely mad. I didn't even know he had the authority to do that."

Dumbledore didn't reply immediately. His first reaction was that he must be asleep and that this was a particularly nasty dream. The balance between Wizards and Goblins was delicate at the best of times. An action like this was the equivalent of a declaration of war. No wonder the Goblins were reacting badly.

"What is happening at the Ministry?"

"I don't know a thing. I barely managed to convince them to let me make one floo call, and I'm calling you. I need you Albus. I need you now!"

The Headmaster didn't need to hear anymore. He didn't even say a word to McGonagall, expecting that she would understand, and not really caring if she didn't. He grabbed his hat, moved around his desk, and jumped into the fireplace.

Professor McGonagall remained immobile for a moment. The world was going crazy around her, and she had the unpleasant feeling that it would not stop there.


	22. Chapter 21 An evening to remember

_Dumbledore steps in to handle the crisis at Gringotts, and then Arthur gives a piece of his mind to Fudge. The Avengers have their 'detention' with Remus, and Snape ... has his dinner with Helen. Some things will go well, and some won't._

* * *

**_Chapter 21 - An evening to remember_**

_Gringotts,_

The whole bank was in an uproar. It had been closed for the rest of the day. The managers were assembled in an emergency meeting to decide on how to respond to the Ministry's move, while the rest of the employees were busy shoring up the defenses of the building, as if they expected battalions of Aurors to charge and force the doors open.

All customers, and all humans, had been forcibly evacuated, except for Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley who were engaged in a one sided discussion with a Goblin official. Arthur had wanted to go back to the Ministry of Magic to work at things from the other end, but Dumbledore had asked him to stay, until they could at least have a talk with the Director of the bank. They had asked to see Gauldbag, but instead they found themselves confined in a small room, and referred to a 'representative of the Director'. The Goblin who had been assigned that role was evidently a minor clerk, and he had been given one clear order: to say nothing and to keep his ears open. It was an obvious insult from the bank officers. After a few minutes, when this became evident, the two wizards abandoned the pretence that they were having a real conversation, and they stopped talking.

The room they were in was extensively decorated with testimony from the most brutal parts of Goblin history. Pictures of violent battles and flaming cities, vicious looking cutlasses and pikes, and other war related paraphernalia. The table was very low in height, as were the chairs. It was a room designed to make Goblins at ease, and humans uncomfortable.

_Not a very subtle message,_ thought Arthur.

After his initial alarm, Dumbledore had apparently taken the measure of things, and he now seemed almost serene. He was seated in one the leather chairs, twenty centimeters from the floor, and sampling sweets from a small bag he had pulled from his robes. He had proposed some Arthur, and to the clerk who had refused with a grimace. Goblins hated sugar. If they wanted to munch on anything, it would be tidbits of raw meat or mushrooms.

Arthur was the one who was seriously worried. He had tried to engage the Headmaster in a discussion of the situation, but the man only shook his head and indicated the surly Goblin watching them. Arthur scowled, but he got the hint.

_Nobody had much information right now, least of all them. Whatever we say will be repeated to his superiors. Better to keep them in the dark._

Albus Dumbledore was going to play this one by ear. The first order of business would be to restore communication channels between the two sides. Once that was done, he would present himself as an impartial go between, and then he would try to understand what was really happening.

- - -

Inside another, much bigger room, Gauldbag was with all of the bank's senior officers. They were debating what actions should be taken in response to the Ministry's provocation. It was not generally known, but as Director of the bank, Gauldbag was _de facto_ the leader of the Goblin community. There was a Goblin king of course, and a whole royal family actually, but it was a long time since they had yielded any real authority. Gringotts was the main source of power, and as Director he was only required by protocol to _discuss_ his decisions with the king, who was a senile fool in any case.

He considered the roomful before him. They had talked for an hour now. All of them had spoken their minds, and already two centers of opinions were emerging.

One group of Goblins wanted to retaliate to the limit, and show the wizards that they had crossed the final red line. They considered themselves to be the moral descendants of the heroes who had led the previous Goblin rebellions. The time for negotiations was over, they argued. War had always been the necessary prelude to defining the proper relationship between the two species. Since that relationship was broken, it could only be rebuilt after a significant show of force.

The other group was much more concerned by the terrible cost which a full blown rebellion would entail. The Gringotts bank had only been founded as a secondary consequence of the last peace treaty. It had proved a boon for wizards and Goblins alike. Before that, there had been no real economy or wealth in the magical world. Actually, many people felt that the Goblins had gotten the best part of the deal at the time. When the treaty was first drafted, not too many wizards knew or cared a lot about the money business. In the end, the Goblins had become indispensable, and it had given them great prosperity. A war would destroy all that, and it was not obvious that the Goblins would be better of afterwards.

It would be bad for the wizards as well, of course. Without a proper financial system, wizard folks would have to integrate the Muggle economy, which would be very difficult because of the innate incompatibility between magic and electricity, or return to a primitive society of artisans and barter.

The key to Gringotts' success had been in the security provided by a stable, and non forgeable, money supply. Galleons couldn't be counterfeited. No wizard had ever managed to overcome, or duplicate, the peculiar magic which came of the Goblins' intimate relationship with metal in general, and with gold in particular. Of course, only isolated Dark wizards had tried to break the Goblin's monopoly, but everyone thought that it was impossible.

In Gauldbag's mind, all this meant that they had plenty of leverage. He dismissed the warmongers for the moment. He was determined to use the coming crisis as an occasion to better secure the rights of his people. In fact, he could not understand the rational for the wizards' act.

_Why did they do this? It only provokes us, and it can only cost them more in the long run._

The decision had come from the Ministry of Magic. It was difficult to find logic in the activity of that body at the best of times, but surely they should have used it as a threat at first. It wouldn't have worked directly, but it would have expressed their willingness to fight. Not a bad thing at the start of delicate negotiations.

_But they didn't even try to negotiate for something specific. Wizard Weasley had been very reasonable, and we were almost ready to reach an accord. _

He saw Graskut give him a discrete signal and thought back on their conversation at the beginning of the week, when his assistant had told him about the unusual contract with the wizard Thelas.

_Yes. That atypical provision would now prove very valuable to him. Most borrowers will feel the pinch as the interest rates will rise to the sky, but Thelas and Sir Comil's deal will give them the cheapest money around, for a time._

Perhaps it was a simple coincidence, but it deserved further discussion. In private, because there was no need to involve the already passionate spirits in this room.

He called the end of the meeting and gestured to Graskut that he was to remain a moment. He waited until the others had left, and it was just the two of them.

"What do you know of wizard Thelas' allegiances? And of his client?" he asked.

Graskut consulted a thick file.

"Wizard Comil has never shown specific links to any group. He is a businessman before anything, although he is close to several Snake families."

By that he meant the conservative Slytherin circles. Goblins felt more at ease with concrete symbols rather than family names. The four Hogwarts Houses were designated by their totem animals: Snakes, Lions, Eagles and Badgers.

"And wizard Thelas?"

"He pretends to be a businessman as well, but several clues would link him with important members of the Warlock council. One of these is wizard Shrummer."

That was interesting. Gauldbag was somewhat familiar with the politics of the Wizengamot. His position required it. The Minister would need the approval of many wizards to make his decision stick. In fact, with such a controversial choice, if he didn't get it, then his political career was finished.

_So he must have expected that support. If Shrummer is part of it, then this makes wizard Thelas' actions very suspicious._

"What was the deal for?" he asked. Graskut told him, and he also repeated the argument about Thelas not wanting the young Potter to participate.

Gauldbag thought about it for a moment. He had been ready for the six students to come forward with a specific proposal for his race, maybe not immediately, but their preoccupation with magical minorities made it likely that Goblins would be contacted at some point. Of course if there was dissension among them, then it could explain why nothing had happened. He made a note to think about it later. Right now there were more urgent things to do.

- - -

Dumbledore looked at his watch once again, and then he decided that enough time had passed for him to make a move. He knew a lot about how Goblins did things. Fudge's action had angered and insulted them, and so a price had had to be paid in exchange. In practice, it had meant snubbing Arthur and him for an hour in a small uncomfortable room. The humiliation evened things out, and it also allowed him to act forcibly to end it without it being considered further provocation. It was all a game, silly for some, but very serious for the Goblins.

He stood up, awkwardly because of the low chair, and addressed the clerk watching them.

"I wish to speak with Goblin Gauldbag now," he asked firmly.

The Goblin looked back with narrowed and suspicious eyes.

"He is busy for the moment," he replied.

"In that case, wizard Weasley and I will leave," said Dumbledore.

The Goblin shot a glance at the closed and locked door and showed a toothy grin.

"You will stay until we allow you to go."

Dumbledore brushed some sugar crystals from his robes and looked at the door as if was suddenly something very interesting.

"I do not think that you want me to feel that I am a prisoner here," he said in a very quiet voice,

He turned toward the small creature. Standing up he was much higher that the diminutive clerk. The Goblin showed a hint of disquiet and looked nervously at the wizard's hands, which remained empty. Arthur pushed back his seat, so that he would be able to move quickly if the need arose. Nothing was said for a moment.

"I will see if Goblin Gauldbag is available," said the Goblin at last.

"That would be very kind of you," replied the wizard pleasantly.

The Goblin stood up slowly and walked out the door, which he closed but did not lock. Arthur shot an inquisitive look at the Headmaster and opened his mouth to speak, but Dumbledore shook his head. The less that was said the better. He remained standing, and motioned to Arthur to get up as well, so that he wouldn't have to do so when the bank Director came in. He then took out his wand and transfigured the table and the chairs so that things would be equally comfortable for both species. When he was finished, he restored his wand in his robes and turned calmly to examine the weapons displayed on the walls.

When the door opened again, Gauldbag and Graskut came in. They looked at the transformed furniture and frowned. Gauldbag and Dumbledore stared at each other silently for a moment. Arthur was now very much convinced that the Headmaster knew what he was doing, and he had decided to let him handle everything. He would watch and follow his lead.

Gauldbag finally gestured toward the table.

"Shall we sit down?" he proposed.

"An excellent suggestion," replied Dumbledore.

They moved to the table and a few seconds later, everyone was seated with their heads at the same level. It showed at least the basic arrangement for a discussion of equals. Gauldbag spoke first, as the host, and as the injured party.

"Today the human wizard authorities have taken an unilateral decision, which can only be seen as an attack on the interests of the Goblin community," he began formally. "We have not even been given an explanation."

He looked at Arthur, who represented the Ministry after all, but the man kept silent. He had already protested his ignorance of the decision. To repeat it would be an additional humiliation. He turned his head fractionally toward the Headmaster, while he vowed privately to take proper revenge on Fudge if that was the last thing he ever did.

"If I may reply," said Dumbledore, nodding in apology to Arthur who thanked him silently for the token gesture. "I would like to say that the Ministry's decision is certainly a mistake, in form if not in substance."

Gauldbag was becoming very angry.

_So they want to play the innocent, and take me for a fool. I will show them that it is a bad strategy._

"I will not have you insult my intelligence with such remarks," he snarled. The pointed Goblins teeth were now displayed in a rictus which was much more frightening than the usual sinister grin.

"And I will not have you insult my integrity," replied Dumbledore with steel in his voice. His eyes narrowed, and a hint of golden light seemed to shine from them.

Gauldbag looked back with a hard face. He could not afford to show fear, but he conceded privately that he had made a mistake. Albus Dumbledore was a devious and powerful figure, but no one had ever heard him speak a lie. To imply as much had been a bad tactic.

"Are you telling me that the Wizengamot does not approve of this?"

"I do not represent the Wizengamot today, but I can assure you that it has not discussed the Ministry's decision," replied the wizard. "However I fully intend to convene a full session to address the problem."

"Can you guarantee that the decision will be overruled?" asked Gauldbag.

Dumbledore let his face relax. The Director was not really asking that question. Instead, what he was doing was accepting to start actual negotiations. The crisis was still very much real, but both parties agreed to talk about it. There was no chance to reach an agreement at this time, if only because the true state of mind of the Minister was still unknown, but the situation was not critical anymore.

"I am afraid that I cannot," he replied. "But I will speak with Minister Cornelius Fudge, and if necessary I will serve as an intermediary until matters are placed into the hands of the Wizengamot."

Arthur winced inwardly. That should have been his role, but he understood that he was now discredited. _Damn you Fudge!_

"I accept that for the moment," said Gauldbag. He stood up, immediately followed by his assistant. "The bank will remain closed in the meanwhile. I expect to hear from you promptly."

The two Goblins left the room, and this time they left the door opened. Arthur raised his eyebrow at Dumbledore who nodded with pursed lips. They came out in turn and were met by a Goblin usher who led them to a secondary exit. Which was just as well, since the main entrance was surrounded by a large crowd of unhappy customers. They walked away discretely to a point from which they could Disapparate.

- - -

_Ministry of Magic,_

The two wizards immediately reappeared inside the Ministry, which was in no less a troubled state.

"Mister Weasley!" called a disheveled witch as soon as he was inside. "We've been looking everywhere for you. The Goblins-"

"I know," Arthur interrupted impatiently. "We are just coming in from Gringotts. Where is Fudge?"

Other wizards were coming closer, anxious to find a figure of authority to unload their problems to. He silenced them and repeated his question. Now that he didn't have to play humble to the Goblins, he was feeling a tremendous rage building up inside him. Not even Dumbledore was going to keep him from telling the man what he thought of him.

"No one has seen him, sir. He left word that he was not to be disturbed."

"He did?" said Arthur in rising voice. "Well I do not plan on disturbing him. I PLAN ON GIVING HIM A PROPER REPORT ON THE SITUATION!" he bellowed.

They all moved back as they saw the righteous anger on his face. In all the time he had worked here, few people had ever seen Arthur Weasley lose his temper. This was a first, and it looked like it would make up for all those years. He started walking toward the elevators and the crowd made way for them. Some followed, but at a safe distance. Dumbledore kept close to him, and they had the elevator for themselves.

Arthur was still trembling with rage. The Headmaster said nothing. He had decided to let his friend express his anger, and even help him along if necessary. Decorum was important in front of Goblins, but not for Fudge. The man was either stark raving mad or a brainless puppet. In both case his opinion didn't matter anymore. They marched quickly and silently up to the desk of the Minister's private secretary.

Marge Pennywrinkle's eyebrows shot up in alarm as she saw them coming.

"Now just a minute," she said. "You cannot-"

Arthur ignored her. She started to rise to stop him from reaching the door to the inner office of the Minister, but Dumbledore gently held her back and placed a finger across her lips. She suddenly found herself mute and looked up in alarm. He nodded at her and guided her back to her seat. Meanwhile Arthur had found that the door was locked, and that none of his spells could open it.

He started to hammer at the panel with his hands, shouting Fudge's name and asking forcibly to see him. Dumbledore took out his wand discretely and timed his spell to coincide with one of the blows. The door exploded into large wooden pieces with a resounding crash. Marge let out a silent squeal. Arthur looked at his fist in surprise, and then back at the Headmaster who smiled and gestured for him to go inside. Dozens of people were watching from a distance, heads popping out of office doors, all of them fascinated by what was happening. Marge tried to get up again, but Dumbledore's hand reached out once more, and then she found that she was glued to her seat. A look of horror showed on her face. Muted and immobilized with vandals assaulting her dear Minister. It was the end of world.

Inside the room, Arthur was lashing out at his stunned superior.

"HOW DARE YOU PUT ME IN SUCH SITUATION!" he thundered, marching toward the desk. Behind it, Fudge was cowering in fear and desperately trying to find a way to placate his subordinate.

"Arthur, my dear man. We were so worried-"

"DON'T YOU DARE PRETEND THAT YOU CARE A WIT ABOUT ME," shouted Arthur. The sight of Fudge's trembling calmed him, and he lowered his voice a little.

"I have never _heard_ of a more outrageous attitude than yours," he added seething. "I tender my resignation effective this instant, and I leave _you_, yes _you_ sir, to assume the full extend of your criminal decision."

"Arthur, you have to understand," stammered Fudge. "Please stay. I need you."

"No! This was the last straw. I will stand no more."

He turned with a whirl of his robes and stormed out of the room, deaf to Fudge's pleas. The Minister fell back into his chair and groaned.

_It's not my fault. Not my fault at all. I tried. Merlin knows I tried to do it in good order. That horrible woman, Umbridge, why did they do this to me?_

He was lost into his self pity when he sensed another presence in the room, and when he saw who it was, he was suddenly transfixed with terror. This was no simple wizard before him, no Arthur Weasley who despite occasional fits of temper was still a kind and benevolent man. This was Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and from the look on his face, he was not in a good mood either.

Dumbledore took out his wand and, never taking his eyes from the Minister, swished it in a complex movement. The broken parts rose from the floor, reassembled in the air, and the door replaced itself flawlessly, shutting off the nervous whispers coming from the outside corridor.

"Minister," started Dumbledore in a low and menacing voice, "There are many differences between me and Arthur Weasley. One of them is that I require an explanation."

"No!" The man's face was twisted in panic. "I can't!"

"You will!"

His eyes darted away as the Headmaster tried to lock into them, but the man was so terrified that Legimency was useless. Fudge's mind was a sea of incoherent thoughts lashed by a storm of fear. He tried to speak but only random words could come out.

"Had to do it ... Finance ... Urgent ... Goblins ... Money ..."

After several fruitless attempts, Dumbledore straightened up and sat back into one of the visitor chairs.

The Minister was slowly recovering his wits. He also seemed to have acquired a nervous tic which deformed his face in an ugly grimace every ten seconds or so. His hands moved at random across his desk, picking items and moving them about fretfully. Dumbledore looked at him and wondered.

_He is not faking this. The man has been under some kind of terrible pressure. If I tried to pierce through it, I may push him into irreversible madness. What in Merlin's name has happened to him?_

There was not much that he could do. Fudge would not explain himself, but he could be prevented from taking any more senseless actions.

"I will leave you now Minister," he said. Immediately he sensed the turmoil in the man's mind abate. It was a sure sign of his being under some kind of compulsion.

_Well, two can play at that game. I had better be careful though._

"I could ask you to reverse your decision ..." he asked, curious if Fudge could be persuaded to do so. He began to lean mentally on him once again.

The result was spectacular. Fudge immediately changed color, turning a dark red complexion. Shaking his head, he began to foam at the mouth.

"NO! ... I mustn't .. never ... _Aaaahh!_" He raised his hands to his temples and screamed as if he was in terrible pain.

"... but I will not," finished Dumbledore.

The Minister immediately slumped in his chair. His face haggard and sweating. The nervous tic started once again.

"However, I forbid you from taking any further decisions in the name of the Ministry," tried Dumbledore. He hoped this would be accepted. If not, he would have to do something much more drastic.

Fudge hiccupped, and alarm showed in his eyes for a moment, but then he relaxed again. He seemed to accept the command. To the Headmaster, this probably meant that whoever had meddled with the man's mind, had no further plans in the short term. It was good news, of a short.

"I suggest you take some rest now, Minister," he added.

Fudge's head dropped down suddenly on the desk with an audible 'clunk'. Shortly afterwards the sound of snoring could be heard loud and clear. Dumbledore stood up and sighed. He looked around the room at the portraits of the former Ministers, who showed various expressions of horror and fear. He tried to address them, but none of them would talk to him. By design, they were loyal to the acting Minister only, and it would be impossible for them to say anything which could incriminate him.

The Headmaster turned toward the door and opened it. A crowd of curious and frightened Ministry officials retreated quickly. He ignored them and freed the secretary from the spells he had cast on her.

"Miss Pennywrinkle?" he asked gently.

She could only stare back with terrified eyes.

"Can I trust you to convey a full session of the Wizengamot as soon as possible?"

She nodded convulsively.

"Thank you very much." He smiled benevolently at her. "One more thing. I believe the Minister is very tired. He is presently resting and should not be disturbed. Is that clear?"

She nodded again. Dumbledore gave her a friendly bow, and then he walked away toward the elevators.

Now, he would need to convince Arthur Weasley not to resign. It shouldn't be too difficult. Actually, he felt that all this was much simpler than dealing with the likes of Hermione Granger and Minerva McGonagall.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

"All right," said Richard. "We've got to prepare what we are going to tell professor Lupin."

"What is there to prepare?" asked Silena.

They were very excited at the perspective, and by all the information Harry had given them. They didn't really know much of what the _Marauders_ had done, but from what could be put together, they had probably been the most extraordinary group of pranksters the school had seen. They had set the standard for generations of successors, but the three of them were determined to follow their footsteps as far as possible.

"He could help us beyond anything Fred and George could do," said Richard dreamily.

"But he's a teacher," corrected Silena. "How could he help us break the rules?"

"I wasn't thinking so much about him helping us directly," he replied, "but he could tell us stuff. Give us tips and tricks like the ones we found in the _Guide_".

"He certainly could since he wrote part of it," said Alicia. "But Silena has a point. We need to speak to _Moony_, the ex-_Marauder_, and not to professor Lupin."

They stared at her with confused faces.

"He asked us for a story right?" They nodded. That part was simple enough. "Well we've got to tell it in such a way that he will remember what it was like for him and his friends. If we do it well enough, he may feel close enough to us to help us do what they did."

"Hum," said Richard, thinking it over. "You want to touch his heart. Well why not." He looked at Silena. "Okay, we'll prepare a story and Silena will-"

"No," interrupted Alicia. "You want to pull the same trick as on Hagrid, but it won't work as well as what I have in mind." She wasn't going to let him pull another 'smallest and cutest' maneuver.

He looked at her with a touch of annoyance.

"And what do _you _have in mind?" he said sarcastically.

She glared at him in reply. Silena sensed another dominance contest between sister and brother, and she sharply nudged Richard to make him stop. He made an exaggerated surrender gesture and gave Alicia the floor.

She talked for a moment, explaining her idea. Richard and Silena considered it carefully. They looked at each other for a moment, and then back at her.

"You would do all right in Slytherin," said Silena with a smug expression on her face. Richard grunted, but privately he too, thought that it was a good idea.

Their detention had been scheduled for right after the evening meal. It would take place in the History of Magic classroom, or rather in the special teacher's library of that classroom. It was also where Remus had set up his private office. Dinner went by slowly. As time passed and the critical hour approached, they weren't so sure anymore that everything would go as well as they'd hoped. It was really a very long shot after all. What would they do if professor Lupin denied the whole thing? They couldn't very well ask for Harry to testify for them. Silena was worried about something else. All her life she'd heard of Werewolves as monsters to be feared. If things came out badly, perhaps the professor would get very angry and this could provoke the transformation. They would probably get ripped to shreds before anybody could come to help them.

So it was a very subdued trio who walked up to the classroom door. Silena was holding the Tacking close to her neck. The little creature seemed to sense her distress and it cooed gently in an attempt to comfort her. They exchanged nervous glances once more, and then Alicia squared her shoulders and knocked decisively on the door.

"Come in."

Silena hid Furry into her robes and they all entered with precautions. The room was empty but there was light coming from the library. They walked over there and saw Remus seated at his desk. Two of the walls were covered with shelves, most of them filled with old, dust covered books. For having been in the room before, they knew that they all touched upon one subject only: Goblin rebellions. It was the legacy of professor Binns, the former History of Magic teacher.

In the middle of the room, there were also half a dozen wooden cases, already opened. These were filled with books as well. Remus had found them in the storage dungeons when he'd helped Severus put back the equipment that the Order had kept at Grimauld Place. Apparently, professor Binns had been gradually making room for ever more books on his favorite field of research, to the exclusion of all others.

"Good evening, professor," said the three children.

"Good evening to you as well," replied Remus. He gestured around them. "As you can see this will be a most scholarly detention. We need to make room for all the books in those crates. That will mean selecting the less interesting ones from the selves, and putting them away."

Richard considered the content of the room with alarm. There looked to be several hundreds of books, probably thousands. It would take them hours to do this.

"Er, speaking of books sir ..." he began.

Remus looked back at him with sly smile.

"Yes Mister Parker. I remember telling you I would consider giving it back after hearing your story. Do you have a good explanation for being in possession of it?" he teased.

"Yes professor," replied Alicia. "We have a story to tell you, and we think you'll find it interesting."

"But it's a children's story," added Silena. "So it should be told in the proper way."

Puzzlement showed on Remus' face and his eyes narrowed as he wondered what she was talking about. Richard explained it.

"She means that we should sit down on the floor in a circle when we talk," he said. "Of course, you can sit in a chair," he added. It would be best if the man sat down with them, but they couldn't really hope for it.

Remus hesitated, but his curiosity was aroused. He had expected a simple tale. The least damning one would have been that an older student had given them the book. He couldn't remember what had been done with it. It had been written in their third year. _I think it was Sirius who had kept track of these things. Could he have hidden it away in the school?_

"All right," he said. "I'm calling your bluff. However, let me warn you that you've upped the ante quite a bit."

The youngsters aligned themselves cross legged in front of him. Professor Lupin was a very easy-going professor, but decorum insisted that he be seated on something more dignified than the floor. He transfigured his chair into something with very short legs which still allowed him to sit in comfort without towering over them.

"Is that good enough for you?" he asked with a touch of sarcasm.

"It's perfect, professor," said Richard with dignity.

"Thank you," said Remus in the same tone. "Well, I am listening."

Richard gestured to Alicia to go first. She coughed to clear her throat and started to speak in a clear voice.

"It all started a long time ago when a group of friends started here in Hogwarts as students," she began. "They loved to have fun and play tricks, and they called themselves _The Marauders_." She stopped. She had proposed that they take turn in telling the story, showing by that they worked at a team, like _Moony_ and his friends had.

"We don't know very much about what they did," continued Richard. "At first we only heard bits of things about them. But we know that they explored the school, looking for secrets and adventures."

"And we also know that they were very good friends," said Silena in her turn. "And that they cared a lot for each other."

Remus found himself completely stunned by what was happening. Whatever he had expected, it had not been to hear his own story, and that of James and Sirius, as if was some kind of fairy tale. He didn't know where this was leading, but he wouldn't have interrupted them for anything. Alicia continued.

"They had private names. One of them was called _Prongs_. He was brilliant and strong, and he could transform into a great big stag."

"The second one was called _Padfoot_," said Richard. "He was brash and daring, and he was also a big black dog."

Remus found that his mouth was dry, and that he had trouble breathing. Hearing these children describing his former friends was extremely moving.

"And then there was _Moony_," continued Silena. Her voice was trembling a little, but she made a big effort to control it. "He was very smart and wise. He was also a werewolf, but a kind and gentle one."

They had agreed beforehand not to mention _Wormtail_. Judging from Harry's reaction, they felt that it would spoil the mood they wanted to evoke.

"They did all sorts of amazing, and forbidden things," said Alicia, catching the man's eyes as she spoke. "And when they left the school, some of their stuff were left behind."

"Like that book we found," continued Richard. "We were given a riddle to solve, and it turned into a treasure hunt."

"The book was hidden behind the painting of a crazy knight on the last floor," added Silena.

_The cache behind Sir Cadogan's painting!_ thought Remus_, I remember that one._

They had also decided that they wouldn't dwell on the tragic fate that had followed the _Marauders'_ time at Hogwarts. They knew that very sad events had followed, but it was still something beyond their experience to fully comprehend. It was grown up thing, and not something they felt really applied to their situation.

"Now there's only _Moony _left," continued Alicia. "He became a teacher, and he went back to the same school."

"But we think that he remembers," added Richard. "And we hope that he will tell us of the great time he had with _Prongs_ and _Padfoot_."

"And the three of us," said Silena. "We've formed our own group, and we want to have wonderful adventures, just like they did."

"And we'll never forget them," finished Alicia.

Remus had winced in grief at first, as he relived the tragedy of their lives. Then he realized that the bad things which had happened afterwards didn't really matter tonight. These were kids, like he had been. When all was accounted for, the things they were talking about meant as much, if not more, than most of his adult life. He was happy with Tonks, and he could probably count on a future with her, and there was Harry as well, but the rest had been filled with many empty days.

_And what about Sirius? And James?_

He should be feeling sad, but he was not. He smiled at them, and suddenly it was as if all those years had disappeared. He could sense in them the same spirit that they had shared. They were right. It was wonderful to be young and to do these things, and he felt like a child once more.

"That's a very good story," he finally said. He took out the book and looked at it before giving it back to Richard. Relief and awe were visible on their faces.

"I think _Moony_ would be happy to tell you a few things about what he and his friends had done," he added.

Joy and wonder were in their eyes. They weren't students anymore, he wasn't a professor, and this wasn't a detention. It was just _Moony_ and the _Avengers_, like they had wanted it to be. The books were completely forgotten, as he talked about the first time the _Marauders_ had met, and about other things they had done. In turn, they told him more about themselves. How they had started out and chosen their name._ Fred and George Weasley. I might have known._ They also talked about the Forest and the Centaurs, and about their friendship with Flitz. They had hesitated to mention him, but Remus said that it was a very good thing.

"Friendship is never a bad thing," he assured them, "and knowing more about another specie is even better."

"He said we might get to meet a Unicorn," mentioned Silena. "Do you think that's possible?" she added wishfully.

"We saw a Unicorn ourselves once," replied Remus with a smile. "From afar in the Forest. They don't mix with humans a lot, so don't get your hopes up too much."

"Why? Are they shy?" asked Richard. Remus shrugged.

"I don't know. I heard some people say that it's because of the dispute between the Centaurs and the humans. They are supposed to be close to the Centaurs, so maybe they don't like us, at least here. There are other parts of the world where relations are better."

"Why is there a problem between Centaurs and humans?" asked Alicia.

"I don't know. It goes back to very ancient times."

They went back to talking about more practical subjects. Remus didn't tell them about all the secrets of the school. Like Fred and George, he explained that they would have more fun discovering things by themselves, but he said enough to set their imagination on fire.

Then when it was getting late, and Silena couldn't stop herself from yawning, he called it off and escorted them to their quarters.

"Good night _Moony_," said Richard. He caught the warning in the man's eyes and sighed. "I guess that tomorrow it will be professor Lupin?" he added.

Remus nodded soberly.

"Yes. Tonight was special. I'm sure that you understand that."

"Yes, professor," said Alicia. "But we were very happy to meet a _Marauder_."

"And I was glad to meet the _Avengers_," replied Remus. "There will be other times," he added.

They smiled at each other one last time, and then they all went away to their beds, with images and memories dancing in their minds. The stuff of dreams and adventures.

- - -

_London, Helen Parker's flat,_

Helen was fussing about nervously in the small apartment. One more time, she made sure that everything was as should be. The dinner was all set for last minute cooking, little bowls of snacks were properly placed on the low table, and the wine was in the cooler.

_This is completely ridiculous. I'm like a little girl on her first date._

She hadn't felt so nervous since her first rendezvous with Ethan. She realized with a start that she hadn't thought about him since the weekend. It seemed like only yesterday when she would cherish his memory at least once a day. Of course, it was one more sign that Severus had the potential to become something much more serious than the few 'friends' she'd had in the last years.

_And yet. What do I really know of him? So little that my feelings are really frightening. I'm ready to give myself to him without having really thought anything out._

She would learn more tonight. They would talk, and then she would be able to rationalize her feelings.

_What time is it? Half past seven. He'll be there in less that half an hour._

What kind of music would he like? Certainly not pop. Maybe some jazz, or Bach. She fumbled in her CD rack.

- - -

Severus Apparated at the closest safe point next to Helen's flat. He had allowed for enough leeway in his timing to give himself the time to shop for a simple gift for her. She would probably have appreciated flowers, and maybe she even expected it, but when he found himself in front of the florist, he realized that he just wasn't capable doing something like that. The very idea of walking the streets with a bunch of carnations, roses, tulips, or anything else comparable, was too alien for him, and he was afraid that it would send the wrong message. He had thought long and hard about this event, with undetermined results. He wasn't totally sure what message he wanted to send, but flowers wouldn't do. In the end he stopped at a pastry shop and got a wrapped box of chocolates.

The flat was on the seventh floor. He remembered that Muggles used elevators, like in the Ministry, and he only hoped that they wouldn't be too complicated to operate. Orienting himself was not obvious, but a group of young people, two boys and two girls entered the building shortly after him, and on a hunch he decided to follow them.

The booth was not very large and he resigned himself to the indignity of being at close quarters with the four cheerful, and for the boys at least, visibly inebriated youths.

"What floor?" asked one of the girls pleasantly. She had spikes in her hair, which was dyed bright red, and a metal stub was set in her lower lip.

"Seventh please," said Severus stiffly. _And I thought that Nymphadora Tonks was a weird one._

"Seventh heaven for the man!" said the tallest boy. He punched the switch with a flourish, and the one for number four as well. The girls giggled and both boys laughed raucously. Severus said nothing and fixed the door panel stoically.

The elevator stopped at their floor.

"Fourth floor. Ladies' underwear," said the first boy, given Severus a saucy wink. The others giggled again as they came out into the landing.

_Kids!_ thought Severus._ They really are the same everywhere._

He waited for the doors to close before shaking his head in disgust. It was at times like this that he wondered if he belonged on the same planet as the people around him.

The elevator stopped again on the seventh floor. He came out and explored around to find the proper door. His nervousness was rising. The name 'Parker' was written next to a bell button on the second one he examined. He took a deep breath, checked his clothing, and rang. A soft chime sounded and after only a couple a seconds, the door opened on Helen's smiling face.

"Hi, Severus."

"Good evening, Helen." The sight of her was enough to relax his expression and bring some warmth on his face. He completely forgot about the youths in the elevator.

She ushered him in. They looked at each other awkwardly, and then he gave her the box of chocolates.

"For you," he said.

"Oh. Thanks a lot. You really shouldn't have, but I love them. Can I take your cloak?"

She led him to the main room. He stood in the middle and she gave him the time to look around. The living room doubled as dinning room, a table for two was set up on the side. It was a bright and cheerful room, decorated in soft colors. There was a distinct feminine touch to it, even to the sweet floral smell which mixed with the aroma coming from the kitchen. He took on an unconscious half smile as he considered the little details of the apartment.

"You have a very nice home," he said.

"Thank you. I try my best," she said, feeling ridiculously pleased with his appreciation. "Please sit down. Can I get you a drink?"

"A drink would be fine."

"What do you like? I've got some white wine, or scotch, fruit juice?"

"I think I'd like some wine."

She left the room and returned with a bottle and two glasses. She poured for each of them and handed him one.

"To your health," she said.

"To your health," he replied. They took a sip and looked at each other. The happiness of her face was infectious. He thought that it made her really beautiful.

"So, how are things at school?" she asked.

"Nothing special. A little edgy right now that's all," he said distractedly.

"Edgy?"

He shrugged.

"Students periodically get wound up over some things." He told himself that he didn't want to get into Hermione Granger's troubles. "That last game for instance, or exams. With so many of them cooked up in the same building, small tensions are inevitable."

"And how are Richard and Alicia?"

He allowed himself a smile as he imagined the kind of 'detention' they were probably having with Remus. The man hadn't fooled him for an instant. That was why he had set things straight with Richard and Silena.

"They are doing very well as far as their schooling goes. Outside of classes, they are a little more active than the average student," he said. "And that's saying something believe me, but it's nothing the teachers can't handle."

"Hum."

He decided to change the subject. He stood up to get a small thin book from his cloak and gave it to her.

"Speaking of school work. I wanted you to have this," he said.

"What is it?"

"The monograph I was talking to you about the other day." He gestured toward it. "Well this is it. I will be presenting it officially at the Ministry next week," he said with evident pride.

"Oh, that really great," she replied, evidently pleased for him.

She opened the book. On the first page she came upon a dedication to her name.

_The work retraced here owes much to my teachers and staff, but most of all to one person. I wish to thank Helen Parker for her significant assistance. This line of inquiry was prompted by her curiosity, guided by her brilliant analysis, and it could not have succeeded without her._

_In sincere gratitude - Severus Snape_

She was flattered and she felt a warm feeling inside her. _He cares! He would not say such things if he didn't care._

"Whoa! Severus. I don't know what to say, except thank you, of course."

He looked back at her with satisfaction. It was not something that he would have done for many people, and he had surprised himself in wanting to do it for her.

"You certainly deserve it. You have really been a precious help."

She smiled and raised her glass in toast.

"Well. Let's drink to your presentation, and growing fame."

He did the same, and at that moment he felt very good. For an instant he'd had this irrational fear that she would refuse the tribute, or that she would insist on more credits. It was crazy, but Severus was painfully aware that he had a lot of trouble understanding other people, and she was not exception.

The first hurdle was over, and now he could relax a little. He took a long sip of wine and looked away for a moment. His eyes fell on a picture on the wall. It showed Helen holding a bow and aiming at a target. She was outside, in some kind of field, and there were several other persons around her. Under the photograph, on a chest of drawers, were several award cups.

"I remember you telling me about your sporting activities," he said, gesturing toward the picture and the cups. "Are those from contests you've entered?"

She followed his gaze.

"Yes. I don't do it as regularly as before, but I did win a few trophies, and I made it once to finals of the BUSA championship in 94. That's a competition for all British universities."

He pursed his lips in appreciation. She talked a little more about her life, about the things she did in her work and outside. He thrived to know more about her, asking questions when he didn't understand something.

"And what about you?" she asked finally, after they had covered most of the subject. He checked himself and managed to hide it. "Wait. Let's start dinner before you answer. Otherwise we'll never eat."

Thankful for the respite, he followed her in the little kitchen. Curiosity made him examine the Muggle tools she was using. He noted that she had evidently spent a lot of time preparing for tonight. They would have scallops in curry sauce for starters, and then a complex fish dish for the main course.

"I hope you like salmon."

"I eat anything," he replied. "This looks very elaborate. I'm impressed."

"Well. I don't often have the occasion to cook for more than one person. I hope I still remember how."

He assured her that it looked fine. They gathered the scallops, some bread, and went to the table. Helen lit some candles and lowered the room lights. She'd worried it would make him uneasy, but actually Severus found the darkened ambiance more pleasant. It reminded him of the dungeons. They started eating. The food was delicious and he complimented her without reservations. They continued their conversation. She kept giving him openings to get him to talk about himself, but would evade the questions and go on about indirect aspects of his life as a wizard. The school, magical folks, anecdotes about potion making. At first she didn't press him. What he said was interesting, and she respected his reticence. When they were finished, they retired to the main room, him on the sofa, and her in a chair. They had kept their glasses and the lights remained low, so that the atmosphere was still intimate.

She decided to broach the subject directly.

"Why don't you want to talk about yourself Severus?" she asked softly.

"There is not much worth telling," he replied, shrugging. _And there are too many things that would make you sick._

She didn't buy it.

"Not even you believes that. I can guess that you've had hard times, but surely there must have been some happy moments in your life?" She leaned toward him and tried to catch his gaze.

"Well..." He reflected on the few pleasant memories he could recall. Up to six months ago, there weren't many of them. His hesitation gave Helen part of the answer.

"That bad?" she said in a very kind voice.

He had decided beforehand that he would not talk about his past. It could only cause her, and him, unneeded distress. But now, after the food and wine, and the hours of pleasant conversation, he felt his resolve weaken. Maybe he could lift the veil just a little.

"A lot of it was bad yes," he whispered.

"That evil wizard?" she asked. "The one whose name they wouldn't even speak?" He nodded. "But it's over now, isn't it? And you must have had some good times before that, even as a child."

He looked at her with a dead expression. What could he say of his childhood? The brutal Death Eater sympathizer who had been his father? His life in a stiffly formal family? The bullying by Harry' father and his friends?

"I think that my oldest good memory is when I discovered potion making, and that I could excel at it," he finally said. Perversely he forced himself to watch her eyes as she took that in, and deduce the corollary that the rest of his life had been mostly joyless.

"I- I'm sorry," she said. She reached out and took his hand. "I don't want you to talk about sad things Severus. I want you to be happy, but I also wanted very much to know more about you. Forgive me."

He could sense the sympathy, and her sincere willingness to make him feel better. He found that he wanted to talk, but he was still afraid to dig out the ugly truths of his life and hurt her with them.

"Believe me. You do not want to know certain things about me."

"Do you think that you are an evil man?" she asked. He jerked up, surprised at the question.

"No, I don't think so," he responded automatically. He thought a little more about it, consciously trying to be objective about himself. "I would not say that I am a good man. I did many bad, even evil, things, some of which I regret, and some which had to be done. For higher duty, I guess that you could say. But I do not consider myself evil."

He was plainly on the defensive, and she decided that she would press him while she could. Even at the risk of betraying some secrets she had been told, actually it was not even that. It was just confidences between friends.

"Someone told me that Harry saved you. Is that true? How did it happen?"

He looked at her sharply. Someone had been talking too much, or was meddling in his affairs. He wondered who it could be. She held his gaze without flinching. The way she looked at him, young, earnest and ... caring. It reminded him of a young man who had meddled too, with incredible naivety and for the greater good of everyone. A little voice in his mind told him to stop it here, to get back in control of the situation, but another voice said that it was all right, that he was safe. He looked away.

"Yes he did," he said softly. He paused and a slow smile grew on his face. "Actually I think that was the happiest moment of my life," he added in a murmur.

She considered his expression and marveled at what she saw there. A look of pure innocence and wonder, like on a child's face. It was beautiful to watch, and she yearned for the chance to be the cause of such a moment to him.

Looking up, he saw the sympathy and the awe. It was very touching, and the last shred of his resolve dissolved. He started to speak. He told her the pretty much the same story he had told Draco, adding a few details about Remus and Sirius that she wouldn't know, and without the experience of the pensieve. And then he told her about helping bring Draco into Harry's group, and the salient points of what had happened during the last months.

He talked for a long time, often looking in the distance, and sometimes at her. She didn't interrupt. When he was finished, she moved to sit next to him on the sofa and just placed her hand on his shoulder. He was conscious of her touch, and this time he accepted it as something natural. They stayed silent for a moment.

"Thank you for telling me that," she said softly. "Now I understand how Harry and Draco love you."

He grunted and started to scowl. She stopped him.

"No," she continued. "They really do."

He stared at her and searched for doubts in her eyes. He wanted to believe that, and sometimes he did, but it was very difficult for him to conceive of what that really meant. Admiration and respect he could understand, and he could believe he had it. But love, that was an abstract thing, and it made him uncomfortable.

"And so do I," added Helen, reaching slowly toward him.

Her lips approached his. He could not move, and when they made contact, it was the softest of caress. He felt the rest of her body press against his own. She was leaning over and losing her balance. His arm closed in an automatic embrace to keep her from falling, holding her up against him. For a full second he was kissing her, oblivious to his doubts and his past resolve. He was lost in the magic of the moment. Helen had already abandoned herself to the ecstasy of it. Then she felt him stiffen as he remembered something the Headmaster had said.

_Young people are always so eager, too eager. They will run toward the flame and get burned. _

"No!" he said. He took her shoulders in his hands and pushed her gently away from him. "We must not do this."

"Why? What's wrong?" she said, puzzled. _Everything was perfect! What is happening?_

Severus was feeling like a man on the brink of a precipice, knowing the slightest movement could send him tumbling into the abyss. He had almost forgotten his resolution not to do this to her. The decision he had taken to protect her from himself.

"I am not the right man for you," he said.

"I thought that-" The pain of rejection that was all over her face was more than he could stand.

"I care very much about you Helen," he interrupted. The wounded expression abated and was replaced by confusion. "I truly do, but you would only get hurt if we ... got together."

"How do you know that?" she retorted. "I don't think so," she added with a hint of rebellion.

He sighed and looked at her sadly. He was still holding her. An intellectual part of him remarked that he was not in the least reticent to touch her, but he was holding her away.

"I have told you something of my life, but I have not told you the worse. There are things I had to do which are too terrible to describe. Things which have burned my soul away. I can feel your affection, but I will not be able to respond to it like you deserve."

"I don't believe you!" she exclaimed. "I could feel it when you kissed me back."

He shook his head angrily, not at her, but at himself for that moment of weakness. He released her and pulled back on the seat.

"That was just the body reacting. Helen, we would be happy for a few weeks, maybe for a few months, and then it would go bad. You would start to suffer because of me. I am not a good man, but I do not want you to endure that. It is better that we remain friends."

She winced at hearing the finality of the rejection in his voice.

"Are you saying that you cannot love?"

"That is what I am saying, yes."

This was proving much more difficult than he had imagined. He felt himself losing ground. He wasn't really sure of anything actually, but his reason told him to ignore the maelstrom of emotions battering at him. It spoke of duty and responsibility, and that was a language Severus understood better that what his feelings were telling him.

_She will no desist until I tell her in a definite way._

"I care for you Helen, but I ... do not ... love you."

She gasped. Uttering those words tore at his soul, and the resulting pain on her face only made it worse. He couldn't think objectively anymore. He had often suffered at the Dark Lord's hands, and others. He had been terrorized, humiliated, tortured and rejected. Tonight, he was discovering a new agony to add that macabre list.

Helen said nothing. Her devastated face was looking blindly back at him. She didn't cry, but her lips were trembling. Like him, she was too caught up in emotions to think clearly. She had hoped so much. She had thought that the moment was finally there, and now it was all over before it had even begun.

They stayed silent for a time, and Severus gradually recovered some control.

"I am terribly sorry, Helen," he said. "I will be glad to see you again, as a friend, and I will be available if you need anything."

She didn't reply. Her eyes were still looking at him, but her face seemed frozen in misery. She tried to think of something to say, but nothing came to her.

"I think that it is better if I go now," he said softly.

He got up and walked toward where his cloak was. Moving made him feel better, any action would, anything that could distract him. He turned toward her.

"Good bye, Helen."

The words seemed to rouse her from her paralysis and she finally spoke up.

"Severus?"

"Yes?"

Helen's mind has resumed working, slowly, and jerkily like a broken toy. She walled off the pain, for the moment. She told herself that if she couldn't have him, then she might as well accept Amelia Bones' offer concerning FOM. She would not do it for Bones, or for the Ministry, in fact she blamed them for imposing such conditions on her, but it didn't matter. She would do it for herself. She told herself that she was going to fight, like she had done before, and not lose herself in despair.

"About your monograph. I would like you to do something for me."

Relief at her positive reaction was visible on his face. Of course he would be glad to help her in any way.

"I want you to remove the dedication to my name," she said, unmindful of what her request would sound like.

The change on his face was dramatic. It was as if she had slapped him, or punched him in the gut. It was his turn to feel the blow of rejection, and he reacted with automatic anger.

"_Accio monograph!_" he barked.

The thin book flew into his hand. Before Helen could react, he had flipped it open and ripped the page off. She looked back in alarm and tried to explain the actual reason she was asking him this, but didn't give her the chance.

"I expected more respect from you," he snapped angrily. "I am sorry to have caused you pain, but your reaction is petty and trivial."

_Damn you Albus! You were wrong, and I was right all along. Open up your armor and they stab at you the first chance they get._

She was too shocked to reply. It was a mistake, if he would listen, she could explain everything.

"It will be as you wish it," he added. "Good bye."

Before she could say a word, he threw the book and the crumpled page on the floor, and then he Disapparated with a loud cracking sound.

Helen remained motionless. The harsh parting words echoed in her mind. After a moment she considered the two objects at her feet. The book had opened upon landing. It was lying face down, and several pages had been roughly folded in the process. She knelt and took it gently, closing it properly. She took the torn page and slowly tried to smooth it. She could feel an overwhelming anguish rising inside her. She fought back desperately, willing herself not to cry, but when her eyes fell on the words he had written, she just couldn't hold it back anymore. She started to tremble. Her vision blurred as great big tears ran down her face. One fell on the paper with a barely audible sound. It was enough to dissolve her remaining control, and then she just gave herself up to the pain.


	23. Chapter 22 The Wizengamot Gambit

_Everything is now moving very fast. The Brotherhood makes its play in the High Court. Who will be Minister of Magic? You'll know at the end of this (long) chapter._

* * *

**_Chapter 22 – The Wizengamot Gambit_**

_Hogwarts,_

_Tock! Tock! Tock!_

Ginny was woken up by a repetitive knocking noise. She opened her eyes, but a quick glance around the darkened and cold bedroom didn't show anything unusual. It was still before dawn, and the six thirty morning call hadn't sounded yet.

_Last day of the week, _she thought sleepily._ Saturday won't be there fast enough._

The annoying noise had stopped when she moved. She closed her eyes, dropped her head back on the pillow, and pulled the covers up to her chin to recover the warmth of her bed.

_Tock! Tock! Tock!_

The sound was back. This time, being more or less awake, she identified it as coming from the direction of one the window panes. She fumbled for her wand.

"_Lumos!_"

The light illuminated the opening, and it showed a small dark owl perched on the outside ledge. It was hitting the glass with his beak, and that was where the sound was coming from.

_An owl that can't wait for the morning mail call? That's weird._

The other girls were mumbling for whoever was making that blasted noise to stop it. She stood up and went toward the window. She opened it, receiving an unpleasant blast of cold air which lowered the temperature throughout the room. It was windy outside and she could even feel a few raindrops hit her face.

"Ginny!" protested Cecilia in a sleepy voice. "What in hell are you doing? Close that damn window!"

She let the owl fly in and quickly closed the pane. The bird carried a single envelop of parchment. It made one quick round of the room and settled on her bed table. Apparently the message was for her. She went to detach it and read the addressing.

_'Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy', it's for both of us then._

And since the sender was using her official first name, it certainly wasn't someone who knew her very well.

"What is it Ginny?" asked one of the girls. Yawns and other sighing sounds were heard as the rest of the dormitory was waking up.

"Just some early mail," she replied. She was reticent to open it in front of the others.

"A secret admirer?" ventured Cecilia. "Oh my, Draco won't like that." The other girls giggled stupidly.

Ginny knew she had to defuse her curiosity before it got out of hands. The girl was a hopeless gossip. She showed her the address on the envelope.

"Don't start imagining things. It was sent to both of us," she said.

That wasn't enough to shut her up.

"Whoa! Official couple address and all. When's the engagement Ginny?"

Ginny muttered an expletive and took refuge in the bathroom, making a point of storing the letter in a drawer and locking it.

Half an hour later, she was dressed and ready to go and have breakfast. She hoped Draco would be down with the first students as well. If not, then she would not hesitate to open the message and read it before him. She allowed him one cup of tea, and she took pride in not drinking it too fast. As it was he got there just in time.

"Hi sweet," he said. "And I thought I was the early bird."

Not too many people were in the hall, none were seated near them. She fished out the letter and showed it to him.

"Funny you should say that," she said. "An owl brought this at dawn. Woke me up too."

He looked at the envelope. It was made of quality parchment, and unmarked except for their names. Exchanging a puzzled glance, they couldn't find a good reason for not opening it right away. Inside was a short note.

_Ginny and Draco, greetings to you both,_

_Just a few words to add to what you will read in the papers today. There has been a big upheaval here in London. The situation is still confused, but the fact is that the Ministry has announced new restrictions on financial transactions, and the Goblins have reacted by closing up Gringotts. They are basically threatening to rebel. As if that was not bad enough, the Minister of Magic has suffered some kind of seizure, and he will not talk to anybody. You can imagine the panic._

_I am telling you this because of a disquieting development. Your Headmaster was in Gringotts this morning, along with Arthur Weasley, just before the Goblins announced their decision, and he was also with the Minister before his 'problem'. I am not implying anything but the coincidences are troubling. _

_A meeting of the Wizengamot is sure to be organized soon. Many here feel that the Goblins are overreacting. They are holding our entire economy by the ... sensible parts, and they certainly stand to gain the most from this crisis._

_Lord Shrummer and I are very worried by all this. Has anything unusual happened at Hogwarts in the past days? If you have any information, then please let me know, but be very discrete. I will keep you abreast of any developments on our end._

_Trevor _

"This is crazy!" said Ginny as she re-read the letter. "He's practically accusing Dumbledore of fomenting a Goblin revolt!"

"Not really," said Draco pensively. "But you have to admit this is troubling, and something unusual _did happen_."

She looked back at him with a shocked and unfriendly expression.

"You mean Hermione," she said.

He raised his hands and tried to be as soothing as possible.

"Gin, I'm not saying Hermione has anything to do with it. She's my friend too, and I'm not going to accuse anybody of anything. I'm just trying to understand what's going on."

They stared at each other for a moment. Draco understood how Ginny felt concerning Hermione, and that the younger girl was very unhappy with the current 'cold peace' situation.

"We should talk it out with them," she said, but her voice was hesitant.

"Er, I don't think that would be a very good idea," replied Draco as carefully as he could. He tried to preempt the flash of anger he could see in her eyes. "At least not right now."

She didn't say anything and stared hard at him.

"Gin, what we need is more information," he added, "and we need to think about what all this means."

Her expression softened. The angry scowl was replaced by a mask of unhappiness. She admitted to herself that what he proposed was not unreasonable, and that Hermione had not been especially forthcoming with information either.

"Okay," she finally said in a low voice. "We can keep this to ourselves for now."

He folded the letter and hid it inside his clothes, and then he placed his arm around her waist. She let herself be cuddled, and they held on to each other for a moment.

"I hate what's going on," she murmured. "I think it was better when we knew who the enemy was, and when we stood together against it."

Draco didn't know what to say so he just held her, and played with a lock of hair on her brow. He could understand what she was saying, but his mind was also engaged in the possible power plays which must be preparing in London. He yearned to participate in them. He imagined himself working along with Trevor and Shrummer, unmasking plots and planning strategy. It would be much more interesting than writing essays on Transfiguration techniques, or mixing potions to cure Hippogriff feather rash.

Draco and Ginny were still in each other arms when they heard a familiar voice behind them.

"Look at the two love birds, and how charming they are."

They turned to see Harry approaching, with Alicia Parker right next to him. The girl had a sleepy face and a big happy grin. She had been telling Harry some of what had happened with Remus, the words rushing out of her mouth, as she relived their evening of recollections. She was every bit as excited as a little kid returning from his first Disneyworld. Harry good naturally clapped Draco's shoulder and gave Ginny a quick kiss. Alicia greeted them rapidly, and then she ran off toward the Slytherin Dungeons to check if her friends were coming.

"You don't look so bad yourself," said Draco, taking in his friend's cheerful face. He gestured toward the girl. "What's going on with her?"

"Detention with Remus last night," replied Harry with a grin. "I think it involved a little story telling," he added, winking at Ginny.

"Oh."

Harry started to get the elements of his breakfast together, frowning at the selection of food. He had discovered _croissants_ in France, it was probably the thing he missed the most. Not for the first time, he resolved to ask Dobby if the Elves could make some, but he kept forgetting to do so. The rest of the students were coming in. Hermione joined them, followed by Ron and Luna. Ron made a point of sitting away from Hermione, thus destroying some of Harry's good mood. Ginny noticed it as well. She turned her face away and squeezed Draco tighter, but no one said anything.

They ate silently until the mail flew in. One owl deposited Hermione's edition of the _Daily Prophet_ in front of her, but she wasn't in a hurry to open it. The rolled up magazine lay next to her plate while she was sipping her tea. Draco was aching to read it, but Ginny was still clinging to him, and the unspoken agreement was always to give Hermione first access to her magazine. He didn't have long to wait in any case. Shortly afterwards, a number of exclamations were heard as other subscribers discovered the front page news. One student spoke it out.

_"GOBLINS CLOSE GRINGOTTS! PANIC IN DIAGON ALLEY!"_

Hermione quickly lowered her cup and jumped to her unopened copy. The others gathered around her, and for a moment all their differences were forgotten as they as they struggled to read the story as one.

_... Gringotts, the only banking facility of the wizard world is closed since yesterday morning ..._

_... an unilateral decision by the Goblins ..._

_... the Ministry of Magic urges calm ..._

_... Arthur Weasley, Head of the Goblin liaison office, denies that the new tax law was announced to put pressure on the Goblins ..._

There were more details on the general situation. Around the hall, copies of the newspaper were passed from hand to hand and read aloud as everybody was made aware of the circumstances. Another owl flew over them and dropped a letter between Ron and Ginny. This one was from their mother, and it had obviously been scribbled in haste.

_Dear both,_

_I assume you've read the news, if not then do so now. Arthur is all right and so is Percy. For now things are totally ape over at the Ministry. Dumbledore will be giving him a hand and that's the only good news so far. He's going to be awfully busy in the next days and probably nights, but he said not to worry too much._

_Love. Molly._

Ginny gave a thought for what her father must be going through. His promotion had been the first real break he'd had in his career, and now this had to happen in his department.

_Poor Dad. He and Mom were so happy about it._

"What does he mean about Percy?" asked Ron.

"There it is," said Harry who had been continuing the reading of the _Prophet_. "On page three." It was a minor follow up on the main story.

_Violence at the Ministry._

_A junior official of the Ministry of Magic was assaulted in his office yesterday. Percival Weasley was found unconscious under his desk. It is not known whether this has anything to do with the events concerning the Goblins. Another official, Dolores Umbridge is declared missing and actively searched for. An inquiry is underway concerning both incidents._

"I'm not worried about Umbridge," said Ron, voicing the general sentiment. "She probably got kidnapped by the Goblins. I can't think of anything more appropriate for her."

Excited discussions broke out around the hall. A number of eyes turned toward the six, acknowledging the fact that big events were their business more than anybody else. Some students looked at the teachers table as well, but it was still mostly empty.

"It's bound to be a catastrophe," said Seamus who had been reading his own edition of the _Prophet_. "With Gringotts shut down, most of the economy will stop. People will only be able to pay for things with what money they have in their pockets."

"What do you mean most of the economy?" asked Ron. He suddenly had a nasty thought.

"I mean companies and stores selling anything other than food and necessities," explained Seamus. "If you're not sure when you are going to get more money, then you don't spent it on anything you don't really need."

"You mean that for example sellers of Quidditch equipment are going to go out of business?" Ron had a sudden vision of what that could mean for a company like Nimbus Flyware, and by way of consequence, for his own future.

"Yes," said Hermione soberly. "If this lasts for more than a few days, it's going to mean personal ruin for a lot of peoples."

"This is insane," said Luna. "How can something like that happen?"

"The Goblins had been making trouble these past days," said Draco.

"They hadn't been making trouble," countered Hermione. "There were some tense negotiations. That's all." She turned toward Ginny. "Did your father tell you anything about that?"

"No," replied the girl. "His last letter said that it was slow going and often frustrating, but he was confident that they would be able to reach an accord."

"I bet that's it," interjected Ron angrily. "Those critters found out that they couldn't have their way through honest means, so they decided to rebel and blackmail us."

"Don't be ridiculous," replied Hermione. "It was the Ministry who provoked them with this tax. That was a criminal decision if there ever was one."

Harry and Luna were getting ready to forestall another open dispute, but Hermione wasn't really speaking to Ron, and it was Draco who answered.

"The decision was certainly unwise," he conceded. "But the Goblins clearly over reacted," he affirmed.

The two glared at each other. Hermione was torn between a natural desire to argue against the Ministry's decision, and her previous resolution to lie low and observe what the others were doing. Draco was incensed at the Goblins' actions, and a nasty suspicion was forming in his mind as to why she was so keen on defending them. They were both interrupted by the clear voice of professor McGonagall.

"Your attention please!" she called out. Most heads turned toward the teacher's table, but the clamor of discussion barely diminished.

"I said: Your attention please!" She had to repeat the injunction once more until the noise gradually came down. She waited until everyone was silent and attentive before continuing.

"Thank you." The professor surveyed the room. "I assume that all of you are aware of the situation in London. First of all, you should know that it will not concern us immediately, and that in consequence, there will be no change in the daily operations of the school."

"Second, our Headmaster has agreed to assist the Ministry in this emergency. I am fully confident that with his help, the authorities will unravel the problem quickly. During his absence I will assume his functions, with the help of professor Snape."

Head turned to look at the potion professor who was showing the gloomiest face they had ever seen on him. McGonagall continued.

"I am aware that your parents and family will be more directly concerned by these unfortunate events. There is nothing that you can do for them right now, except to let them know that you are all right. Be assured that the Ministry and the Wizengamot are perfectly competent to handle the situation."

Draco saw Harry mutter under his breath. He knew what his friend's opinion of the competence of these organizations was.

"That is all I have to say," finished McGonagall. "And now, I ask you all to prepare for your classes."

It was indeed time for the first lessons of the day. The students reluctantly stood up and dispersed to their assigned classrooms, but not without the renewed background noise of muttered conversations.

- - -

_Ministry of magic,_

The meeting regrouped all of the Ministry's department heads and a few others. Dumbledore of course. Percy Weasley, both as witness and victim in the previous day's aggression, and Trevor Themis who, in his role as liaison official to the Wizengamot, was technically representing that august body, but of course it didn't make much sense when the Chief Warlock was present as well.

Fudge should have been there, but everyone had agreed that he was too uselessly confused for that. He would be represented by Amelia Bones who was the highest ranking official available. Kingsley Shacklebolt would hold her seat as Head of the Law Enforcement department. Arthur Weasley was still responsible for relations with the Goblins. Dumbledore had encountered no difficulty in convincing him to stay after he had let off enough steam.

"All right everyone," said Bones, starting the meeting. A sheaf of papers was stacked in front of her. "Thank you all for coming. We will start with a review of what has been done since yesterday evening and first a medical update on the Minister." She turned to a white robed witch who was from St Mungo.

"There is no change in his situation," said the woman in a dry voice. "There are no signs of him having been under the _Imperius_ curse, but he is clearly suffering from a dramatic mental breakdown. He also has serious memory problems."

"Would you say that his medical status is not compatible with his duty as Minister?" asked Bones.

It was the obvious question to ask, but it was also a very loaded one. Everybody in the room knew that nothing in the Ministry statutes allowed for Fudge to be relieved of duty because of mere psychological instability. Few wizards and witches were sane by any Muggle standards, as fuzzy as that measure was, and only gross physical incapacitation would be ground for impeachment. Amelia Bones knew it, but she felt that she had to ask anyway.

"No," said the witch. "You know that it isn't."

"Our predicament has no precedent," added Dumbledore. "The only option is to convene a full meeting of the Wizengamot, and to put the matter to a vote. The High Court would revoke him, and then elect a new Minister. Until then Fudge's actions cannot be overruled, and no real decisions can be taken." He turned toward Trevor. "Mister Themis, I believe we have arranged for a session on Saturday night?"

"Yes sir," answered Trevor. "At nine PM. I apologize for the late hour, but it was the shortest possible delay for us to get a quorum."

"I am sure that everyone will understand," said Dumbledore. "Thank you, Mister Themis."

"All right," concluded Bones. "I guess that this takes care of that. Hopefully, a new Minister will be able to act effectively starting Sunday." She sighed and examined the next item on her agenda. "Let's go on with what's been happening with the Goblins." She raised her head toward Arthur Weasley. "Arthur, I am very glad that you've decided to continue with us. Be assured that nobody blames you for what happened. Can you give us your report?"

Arthur gave a wry smile and sat a little straighter in his chair. He looked very tired. He and Dumbledore had been working far into the night.

"The situation is unchanged," he said. "Gringotts is still closed and the Goblins are blocking all money transactions. Professor Dumbledore and I have re-established communications with the bank's authorities, but they refuse to lift their ban until the tax law is repealed." He marked a pause. "They have also indicated that they will want to renegotiate some of their privileges in any case."

There were gasps of outrage at that. Bones rapped her knuckles on the table to stop them.

"Please!" she said to the room. She turned toward Arthur. "Do you think that they could change their position concerning the ban before the meeting?"

"No. They are very stubborn about this," said Arthur, shaking his head.

"I don't understand," asked Mafalda Hopkirk, who was responsible for the Improper Use of Magic department. "The Gringotts franchise is governed by a magical treaty. How can the Goblins break it unilaterally like that?"

Bones looked up at Dumbledore, and all heads followed her gaze.

"The treaty allows temporary suspensions by either party, in cases of grave menace to its interests," he said.

"That sounds like a serious loophole," commented Kingsley. "Who judges what a grave menace is?"

"It's totally subjective, of course," said Dumbledore. "That is why it works so well."

Several frowns appeared on the faces of the less learned participants. Amelia Bones nodded soberly. She was one of those who understood what the old wizard was saying.

"The system is very simple," she explained. "If a party truly feels threatened, then it can invoke that disposition of the treaty." She marked a pause to give them the chance to understand. "All it takes is sincerity."

"But we are threatened as well!" immediately objected Mockridge, the wizard whose department Arthur had taken over. "So we can do the same to them."

Bones raised her eyes to the ceiling. _The damn fool still doesn't understand._

"Yes, Cuthbert," said Dumbledore gently. "We too could enforce a ban on trading with the Goblins. The unfortunate difference is that we need them more than they need us."

"Oh." Embarrassment showed on Mockridge's face. He seemed to fall into his seat a few inches.

"There is no alternative," continued Dumbledore in a firmer voice. "We must impeach Fudge and elect a new Minister who will have the power to invalidate his decision."

"And then what?" asked Bones. She had her own idea, but she wanted to know Dumbledore's position.

"And then we negotiate," said Dumbledore simply.

They waited to hear more, but the wizard didn't expand. Bones cleared her throat and took the next page from the pile in front of her.

"How are things working out on the economic front?" she asked, turned toward Dimitry Dalton, a short bald wizard with enormous glasses. He was in charge of the finance department of the Ministry.

"Not well," he said. "We're trying to convince people to keep as many Galleons in circulation as possible, but as you can imagine, it's not easy. Commerce is at a standstill, except for foodstuff where prices have already doubled. We cannot even pass a law to bring in some control. If this lasts even a week more, then the economy may never recover." He looked up at them. "We are facing the risk of a major depression."

Bones turned toward Dumbledore.

"Could something be done to replace Galleons with something equivalent?"

The wizard pursed his lips in concentration. He had been thinking about that for some time, but the problem was not an easy one. He said so.

"It would basically entail duplicating most of Gringotts' functions, and determining with precision how much each person actually has in their vaults. We would also need to create a new coinage which would be proof from forgery by any wizard." He held her gaze. "It is a very tall order."

"How long, Albus," she said firmly.

He held her gaze for a moment.

"At least two weeks," he said. "And if I had to do it, I would need a great deal of help from the Department of Mysteries."

She held his gaze and waited for him to acknowledge the need for doing this. She couldn't give orders to the Chief Warlock, but she trusted the man to do what was needed. He finally nodded to her and she felt a wave of relief. The others around the table immediately showed more confidence. If anybody could break the Goblins' Monopoly, it would be the Hogwarts Headmaster. At the very least they would gain a useful bargaining position with the Goblins. She knew that he understood that as well.

"Next," she said. "Dolores Umbridge." She looked up at Percy. "You are confident in your identification of her as your aggressor?" she asked.

"Yes, Madam," replied Percy. He described how he had been informed of the law proposal.

"I immediately realized it would cause a lot of trouble," he said. "I knew that my father was at the bank at the time. I was going to contact him, when she appeared and stunned me before I could do anything." He gave Arthur a desolate look. The man smiled in reassurance.

"You made a good decision Percy. You couldn't imagine she would do such a thing."

Bones turned toward Kingsley.

"Any news on Umbridge's whereabouts?"

"No, Madam. She wasn't seen since yesterday morning. I have sent someone to her apartment. She was not there, but nothing was amiss, and there were no signs of her having left on a trip."

"You will keep on looking of course?"

"Of course. I'll let you know if we find anything."

- - -

_Helen's apartment,_

Helen had woken feeling terrible. She rarely phoned in sick, and although the last thing she wanted to do was to go out and interact with other people, she felt that skipping work would only make it worse. She didn't have much left except for her self esteem, and she wasn't one to give up. Just as important, Bones' emissary was going to contact her at the College today.

So she forced herself to go through the routine of washing, dressing and commuting. When she arrived at her office, a closed and sad face was the only indication that everything was not well. Her colleagues noticed it immediately of course. Had Tim or another one of her close friends been there, she would probably have talked with them. Unfortunately, Tim had taken the day off to go on an extended weekend, and the remaining people around her weren't among those in which she would confide.

The morning went by without any visit from the big black man from the Ministry. She went outside to eat a solitary lunch in one the pubs, and came back for the afternoon work. Time passed miserably. She managed to do some work, and to keep from thinking too much about the previous evening. It wasn't easy. She pushed herself to keep going, but at five o'clock, she just couldn't do it any more. She closed up for the day and went home. She looked into her mailbox for a note or a letter, from anyone. There was nothing. The empty apartment was depressing. She toyed briefly with the idea of writing to Severus, but she dismissed it quickly. It was too soon. On an impulse she changed into her sport suit and determined to do some jogging. The proximity to Hyde Park had been a significant argument for the choice of her apartment. It showed in the rent, but she had never regretted it.

The exercise did her good. When she came back, she went into the kitchen to drink some water. The door rang, and she rushed to open it with an irrational hope in her heart.

It was Kingsley, not Severus. _I didn't really believe it anyway._

"Sorry for the late hour," he said, "Things are a bit hectic at the moment."

She acknowledged absently, inviting him inside.

"It's all right. I expected you at the College, but this is just as well. Did you come to transport me over there?" she asked.

The big man's expression was much less cheerful than at the last time. He considered her carefully.

"Madam Bones told me to check first for the answer to a question she asked you," he said quizzically. "She added that if that answer was no, then there would be no reason to return with you." He shrugged to show that he didn't know what the question was, or what the answer actually meant, and that he was just a messenger.

"The answer is yes," said Helen without any hesitation. "So I'm going back with you, but I have to take a shower first. I hope we have the time?"

He gestured with a small smile.

"Of course. I'll just wait for you right here."

While she was in the bathroom, he looked around with some curiosity. As an Auror, he had a lot of experience in operating in the Muggle world, but there were always new things that these people kept inventing. Any occasion to keep up with the trends was good to take.

The archery photographs held his interest a moment, and then his eyes fell on a decidedly un-Muggle book lying on the table. A detached piece of paper was partly visible between the front cover and the rest of the pages. He hesitated, but his policeman's curiosity won over his respect for Mrs. Parker's privacy. Opening the book, it only took him a few seconds to understand what it was.

_Severus wrote this. A monograph on potion making, with a dedication to Helen Parker. How strange._

The dedication page had been torn and rumpled, and then smoothed over carefully. He replaced the object and thought about what it could mean for a moment. It was a minor puzzle, and he liked those, but after a while he shook his head and gave up. It wasn't really any of his business, and there was too little to go on. He made a note however to ask Severus about it the next time he would see the man.

"I'm ready."

He turned around to see Helen freshly dressed. She had chosen the kind of fancy muggle outfit which wouldn't look too much out of place among wizard folks. He nodded in approbation and handed her the same colored rope he had used for a portkey the last time. A moment later they were inside the Ministry.

Kingsley simply pointed her toward Amelia Bones' office door and left immediately. Helen noticed that there were many more people moving about in the corridors than before, and that they all had tired and harried looks. She wondered what was going on, but there would only be one person who would probably be able to tell her. She knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Amelia Bones looked up from her desk and gestured toward a seat next to a side table.

"Thank you for coming, Mrs. Parker. Please sit down, I will be with you in a minute."

On the table, Helen recognized the statutes for FOM that Hermione must have send her. She had received a copy herself, right after their meeting at the train station, so she was fairly familiar with the subject. She started to browse the material distractedly, while she reviewed the previous discussions they had had, first with Hermione, and then at the beginning of week here.

At the Auror academy, she had seen the same gleam of passion in both witches. It had actually been unsettling to watch. During what little time she had spent with her, Hermione had shown herself to be a determined and very intelligent person. She was almost excessively rational at times, but concerning that particular subject, she had looked ready to sacrifice much more than time and effort to make her project succeed. She could sense a similar zeal in Bones, although it was tempered by the older woman's experience, but it didn't make it appear less frightening.

Helen didn't really want to join in a quest for justice. All she yearned for was to find her place among these people, like she had once. She was willing to pay a price for the chance to share the world of her children, of the wizard she had loved, and of the other one she still loved, or not, she wasn't sure. She was like Ginny Weasley in that for her, ideas and ideals were abstract objects, while only people were real. Without human beings, without emotions, ideas didn't mean anything.

"I am very glad that you decided to come," said Bones when she was finished with her business. "What we aim for has become even more important than it was before."

"What do you mean?" asked Helen.

Bones told her about the trouble with the Goblins, and of the planned Wizengamot meeting. She had to explain a number of details Helen didn't know, or had forgotten, about the relationship between the two species, and how the wizard economy worked. Then she laid out her plan to propose FOM as the basis for a new contract between wizards and their magical partners.

"Do you really believe it will work?" questioned Helen. "You yourself explained how ambitious it was, and we don't have much time until tomorrow night."

"I know," replied Bones. "I will not hide from you that it is a pretty desperate measure, but on the other hand, the situation is very serious. This means that a lot of people will listen. We may not convince enough of them, but we will never get a better chance to do it."

Helen thought about it. She wasn't familiar with politics, not even those of the Muggle world, so she didn't have any idea about what their chances. She would play along, but she would also think about herself.

"What do you want me to do?"

Bones indicated the thick volume of paper on the table.

"We need to reduce this to a few pages of presentation, and identify the key arguments which will convince the High Court." The witch considered Helen shrewdly. "Your Muggle perspective is not comparable to that of a Goblin or a Centaur, but it should be sufficiently different from a wizard's to make them see how the outsiders feel."

Helen looked back with unfeigned interest. The woman was a politician and that last phrase sounded like it had a double meaning, or maybe it was an opening.

"Speaking of outsiders, there is something you could do for me," she began.

"I know what you want," Bones said, still holding her gaze calmly. Helen stopped moving and waited for her to continue. "You want access to this world." The younger woman's sharp intake of breath told her that she had read her correctly.

"It wasn't very difficult to guess," she continued. "You are not the first, nor the last for that matter."

Helen suddenly knew that she was standing on the threshold, ready to cross a line. If Bones was offering what she craved more than anything, then she would do whatever was asked of her to get it. She didn't dare speak, but she nodded slowly, her eyes not leaving into the older woman's face.

"Give me your best in this," said Bones, stabbing her finger on the FOM statutes, "and I will grant you that wish. There are several permanent portkeys in London, links to Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. They are used by Squids and some Muggles whom we have taken into our confidence. Peoples who carry on missions for us. You would be one of them."

Helen couldn't believe what she was hearing. This was what she had hoped for all along.

"Would it be official?"

"Oh yes, and perfectly legal too. You would have to sign an agreement of confidentiality, but we would pay you for any services rendered." She grimaced. "Well, right now payment would be somewhat complicated because of the present situation, but it's all pretty much above board."

"I'll do it," said Helen.

She didn't even have to think about it. She didn't really care how it would turn out. She was confident that she could do a good job. She had proved her value in helping Severus, she would do it again.

"Good." The two women exchanged a look of mutual satisfaction. "I hope you hadn't planned anything for tonight or tomorrow," said Bones.

Helen smiled and shook her head. This was turning into something she was more familiar with. An all out effort on a difficult problem. Bones led her to a private room where she could work without being disturbed. She told her that food and other basics would be provided for, as well as access to specific information she might require.

"I still have some work to finish, but I'll join you in an hour or two. If you need me before that, you can just come to this office. The door will open for you."

Helen sat down and reflected on what they would need to do. The writing material was strange. She was not very good at writing with a quill, and her ballpoint pen only worked intermittently on the parchment. Thankfully she also had a felt pen, and that was okay. A computer would have been useful as well, but from what she understood, it would not work here. _And the damn thing crashes often enough without magic interference._

Bones watched her for a few moments, and then she left to go back to her office. Outside her door, she found Dumbledore and Arthur waiting for her.

"Amelia we need to talk," said Dumbledore seriously.

She felt a pang of guilt, and a rush of panic as she imagined that he knew about her plans. She masked her unease and gestured for them to go inside.

_Damn good thing that I moved Helen to another room._

It soon became apparent that her fears were unfounded. The two wizards didn't act as if they suspected anything at all. Dumbledore looked thoughtful, and Arthur diffident.

"All right, what is it?" she asked.

Dumbledore considered her carefully.

"Amelia, you know that there are going to be several candidates for the position of Minister of Magic, even if this election was unexpected."

"Of course," she said, shrugging at the obvious comment.

"What we need right now is a strong and pragmatic leader," continued Dumbledore. "Not someone who would push an idealist agenda." He paused. "That will come someday, but not today. For the moment the urgency is to negotiate with the Goblins."

That at least was a common goal. She inclined her head, conceding as much. He toyed with the idea of proposing an explicit alliance. He didn't say anything for two reasons. First of all, she certainly knew what were the conditions of his support, and second, because he wanted her to come forth with her own plans.

"Is there anything you want to tell me, Amelia?" he asked gently.

She looked back, wondering what to say. If he was asking that question, then it meant that he probably had a good idea that she was considering running for the position, but she also knew that the really loaded question was _how _she wanted to run.

"No, Albus," she said, looking him straight in the eye.

Dumbledore took note of the tight control and the minimal response. He guessed at the reason for it. After all, she couldn't have missed the fact that _he _had put a stop to Hermione Granger's ambitions. It was natural for Bones to be annoyed with him.

They looked at each other for a moment, she with a hard and severe expression, and he with a slightly sad one.

"You know how to find me, should you change your mind," he finally said. "Come, Arthur."

Bones watched the two wizards go away. She wondered if she was making a serious mistake. She couldn't answer that, but she knew that her choice was the only ethical one.

- - -

Dumbledore followed Arthur to his office. They walked silently along the corridors and got inside.

"What was that all about?" asked Arthur after closing the door.

Dumbledore realized that Arthur was probably not aware of some details concerning Bones' ambition and FOM. He told him the salient points about the association.

"I was counting on her to be our candidate, but now I think I may have to find someone else," he said.

Arthur started to nod in acknowledgement, and then he realized that the Headmaster was looking at him in a most peculiar way.

"Oh no," he said, suddenly alarmed. "Not me. No way!"

Dumbledore couldn't help showing a twinkle of amusement. The situation was anything but funny, but sometimes it was just too difficult to maintain the appropriate decorum.

"I am afraid, my friend, that there are not many alternatives."

- - -

_Shrummer's mansion,_

It was well past nightfall when Trevor arrived at the manor. Lord Shrummer's dwelling was fully as big as the Parkinsons. It was likewise situated inside a large park, surrounded by high walls and protected by powerful wards, including Muggle repealing ones. It was also defended by Golem sentinels, but the area around the house wasn't a lifeless open space. There was actually a great deal of vegetation, and not just for decoration. An irregular and wide moat circled the main building.

Trevor had been there before, but always for short work meetings during the day. He took the evening invitation as a sign of his growing importance to the man he had decided to serve. As he came to the moat, he stopped before a gargoyle statue. He spoke his name, and a bridge materialized, enabling him to cross over to the front door. The water was murky and its surface was occasionally broken by dark shapes. The bridge disappeared as soon as he crossed the barrier. The front door opened, and an Elf led him to a side drawing room. He expected to see Lord Shrummer of course, but he was surprised to see him in the company of a strikingly good looking witch.

"Trevor my boy, delighted to have you here," said Shrummer who looked in excellent humor. He turned to encompass his companion. "Electra, let me introduce you to Trevor Themis who works at the Ministry with me. Trevor, meet Electra." He didn't say who or what she was.

Trevor's first reaction had been to think she was his mistress. Shrummer was a widower which would explain her presence in his house. However the woman's poise was not that a subservient playmate. It expressed real power, and she stood like someone who was the equal, if not more, of the man at her side. As he came closer he could also see the burning intelligence in her eyes.

_This one's a player, and I would bet that she's probably much older than she looks._

He held in check the usual banter he affected in such circumstances. He sensed that her judgment would probably be as important as Shrummer's.

"My Lady, it is an honor to meet you," he said.

He gave a short bow and gently took the hand she held out to him. She was showing a warm smile, but some instinct told him to be very careful. He was right. Instead of surrendering her hand limply; she suddenly grabbed his palm and pulled him forward. He stumbled and only kept his balance by using her grip as support. She was surprisingly strong, and they ended up with their faces only inches apart. Dark eyes examined his face carefully, taking the measure of him by his reaction to this most unusual play.

Trevor was caught by surprise, but he was not one to be intimidated by beautiful women, and he liked them bold and daring. As a Slytherin, he would have approached this unknown witch with prudence, seizing up her strong and weak points before making any move, but if she was taking the initiative, then he could not afford play shy.

He tightened his own grip and gave her a seductive smile.

"And a pleasure as well," he added softly.

Her expression didn't waver, but the eyes narrowed and she nodded ever slightly. Her thumb moved softly over his knuckles and he felt a shiver of excitement run through his body. Desire made his blood boil, and at this instant he knew that he would do just about anything to have her. She was a true enchantress, with everything that word carried in seduction and potency.

She released him gently and turned toward Shrummer who had been watching with amusement. If it had been anybody else but Electra, he would have been jealous or annoyed, but Septimus Shrummer had lived long enough to learn to separate business and pleasure. Electra was a very dangerous woman, and he was careful to partition his involvement with her. He would remain a faithful ally and limit his involvement to the political arena. Besides, giving her Trevor as a toy to play with would ingratiate her with him even more.

_The boy is in for a wild ride, but if he survives, he will certainly not regret it._

"Now that you two have met each other, why don't we get on with dinner?" he said. "We have much to talk about."

- - -

_Ministry of magic_

"I want to speak to a person of authority," affirmed Rita Skeeters in a stubborn voice.

"I am terribly sorry Miss Skeeters," said the clerk, "but everyone is extremely busy right now and it would be much better if -"

The journalist leaned forward over the table and interrupted him with a menacing finger.

"Listen to me carefully, little man. I know there's something fishy going on. I have a story ready, and it's going to make a lot of noise. I'm giving the Ministry a chance to explain some very troubling developments. If they don't get that chance because you will not convey a message, then I really don't want to be in your shoes tomorrow morning when your superiors read the papers."

The wizard paled and balanced his very strict orders against her threat. Prudence won out, and he stood up.

"Please wait here Miss Skeeters. I will see what can be done." He gestured to a guard to keep an eye on the visitor and took the elevator to the executive level. Fifteen minutes later, Rita Skeeters was in Amelia Bones' office, seated across her, with Albus Dumbledore looking in from the side.

"All right Miss Skeeters ," said Bones with a face devoid of any sympathy. "We are listening."

Rita smiled inwardly. This was exactly the kind of situation she craved. A real scoop, on which she was ahead of the competition. She didn't know who her mysterious correspondent was, but it had certainly delivered priceless information. First the news about Fudge's addled mental state, and then the report about that toady witch.

"Dolores Umbridge," she said. "Her body was found last night in, shall we say unusual circumstances? She'd been dead for at least two days, but several witnesses confirm that she talked to the Minister, _and_ attacked Percival Weasley, on Thursday morning. Just before the Goblins rise in revolt. And tonight, the Wizengamot will elect a new Minister." She didn't hide her glee. "One hell of a story, don't you think?"

Bones grimaced and turned toward Dumbledore who was considering the journalist silently.

"You have quite an imagination, Miss Skeeters," said Bones. "I am sure that your readers appreciate the unique manner in which you entertain them."

"Imagination, my bum," retorted Rita. "All of it is true, and you know it." She turned toward Dumbledore. "And don't even think about fiddling with my memories. I know all about your little mind tricks."

The Headmaster half-closed his eyes, pursed his lips and raised a soothing hand.

"I would never dream of doing such an unethical thing, Miss Skeeters," he said calmly. "Besides, I am certain that you have taken every precaution against memory charms," he added in a more serious voice. His gaze was suddenly much less friendly.

Rita felt the unvoiced threat. She had taken a special mental resistance potion which made her mind proof against Obliviates and the like. It was a standard reporter's ploy, but there could be other things he could do, things against which she might not be protected. She felt a touch of fear, but not enough to back down. If anything it only added to the thrill of the game. She was playing very high stakes.

"I hope we are not considering harassment, or actions against the freedom of the press, here," she said. She did her best to show her determination, and she noted with pride that her voice was firm. She was running a bluff here, at least about some things, but she could sense that she was also holding some very good cards.

"What do you want?" said Bones.

"An exclusive," replied Rita. "I keep quiet on the most embarrassing aspects of the case; at least until you have a chance to show that your inquiries can be successful. In exchange, I want in on today's meeting, so that I can write about it for the Sunday edition."

That would definitively put her in the top league. She'd made some mistakes before, sacrificing veracity for sensationalism. It had given her visibility, at the cost of a mixed reputation, but her last pieces had always been spot on. This one would make her _the _name in investigating journalism.

_If I can pull it off._

Bones' face was calculating. She threw a glance at Dumbledore who remained serene.

"I think that would be a little too generous, Miss Skeeters. You get everything, and we only gain a little time. If you want in, then the Ministry is going to ask for a measure of control over what you can publish."

Rita hid a smile of triumph. A deal could be made. They were only haggling over the price. They discussed for a moment and she finally agreed to a veto by the Ministry of any information that she would be privy to, in exchange for exclusive publishing rights. Rita had already started writing a book on the defeat of You-Know-Who. It wasn't finished yet, but was already wondering if she should be planning a sequel.

"What time's the assembly?" she asked.

"Oh," said Dumbledore. "I thought you knew that?" he asked innocently.

She scowled at her for baiting her. She'd been given a general indication _Saturday evening_.

"Not all the details," she replied with some annoyance. "Just that it's tonight."

He nodded, wondering if anybody would be aware of just that information, but not of the actual timing. There was evidently a mole in the Ministry, and it would be important to find out who it was.

"Nine o'clock," he said.

- - -

_Hogsmeade,_

Draco and Ginny were just about to enter _The_ _Three Broomsticks_ when they heard a soft whisper behind them.

"Wait!"

They turned as one and came face to face with a tall figure, wrapped in a very large hooded cloak which protected him from prying eyes as well as from the cold. His face wasn't visible, but Ginny thought that the voice was familiar.

"Trevor?" she asked.

"At your service, my young friend," replied Trevor Themis. He gestured toward the inn. "Is somebody waiting for you, or are you just going in for a drink?" he asked mysteriously.

"No one's waiting for us," replied Draco. "Do you want to join us?" Dressed like that, the man was certainly not just strolling along. He had evidently counted on meeting them here. Draco figured he had some further news for them. He smiled in anticipation.

"I'll be glad to, but not here," said Trevor. "Too many curious customers."

"We could go to _Hog's Head_," proposed Ginny. The man shook his head.

"Actually it's even worse, but I have another idea. Follow me."

He led them to a side street and from there to a place where several piles of shipping crates were lying around. Ginny figured that they were behind the Post Office. Trevor pulled a business card from his pocket and held it out to them.

"Portkey to London," he explained.

Ginny was uneasy at using a Portkey to an unknown destination, it reminded her of an unpleasant memory. London could mean anything, but Trevor's demeanor was relaxed and natural. She didn't need to use Legimency; his mind was sufficiently opened so that she could be sure that he was sincere.

"Where in London?" asked Draco. Trevor chuckled at their precautions. He had privately wondered if they would follow him blindly.

"A pub called _The Warlock's Club_," he replied. "Maybe you've heard of it? It's very popular with Ministry people."

"I heard of it," said Draco. He didn't add who had told him about it.

They touched the card, and Trevor activated the Portkey. They found themselves inside the lobby, and a few minutes later into one of the private cubicles. Trevor ordered three glasses of grog and made small talk until the waiter brought their drinks.

"Did you recover fully from that Quidditch match?" he asked to Draco, all the while winking at Ginny.

"Yep. Everything's fine," replied Draco. Ginny humphed and took a swallow of grog. It was hot and strong, and she felt the fire of it warm up her stomach.

"That's good, real good," said Trevor. "Sir Comil was kind enough to lend me his Omniculars, so I got to see a little of it." He turned toward Ginny and gave her a charming smile. "You were very good too. It must have been real fun."

Ginny had to agree with that. It had been fun. She smiled back at his cheerful face. He beamed and raised his glass to their health, and they joined in. His easy charm, the drinks and the comfortable surroundings all converged to put them at ease.

"You got my little note yesterday?" he asked, his voice losing some of its lightness.

"Yes," replied Draco. "We were quite stunned."

"You weren't the only one. Things are completely wild at the Ministry." He hesitated and looked embarrassed. "Your Headmaster is still over here. He's, ah, helping restore relations with the Goblins." He barked a laugh. "Right now, it's a real deadlock."

Draco narrowed his eyes.

"You were implying that he might have been mixed up in this," he said coldly. His tone indicated that Trevor had better show some proof before calling out accusations.

"Well, he's part of it now, but," he shrugged and looked down into his glass, "call me paranoid if you like. There are still some very troubling facts."

He looked up at Draco, and then at Ginny.

"And there's been something else. They found Umbridge's body."

Ginny gasped.

"Her body? You mean she's dead?"

"Yes," he said. "She was found in her underwear in a back alley, not far from Gringotts. It seems that she was killed Wednesday." He looked at Ginny. "One full day before she hexed your brother."

Draco and Ginny looked at each other.

"Polyjuice," said Draco. Trevor nodded.

"A lock of hair had clearly been cut recently," he confirmed. He marked a pause and then continued. "She was not killed using magic. Her heart was pierced through with a crossbow bolt, and it also seems that she was the one to bring the law proposal to Fudge for publishing."

Draco's mind was whirling. Who would have motive to do such a thing? Who would use a physical weapon instead of a spell? He reviewed Trevor's logic and it only led to one place.

"You believe the Goblins did it? That they set this all thing up?"

Trevor was very serious.

"It's one explanation. It's certainly true that they have the upper hand because of it." He took another sip of grog and looked around the room, as if to make sure no one else was listening.

"What I'm about to tell you is top secret. The Ministry is keeping all this under wrap, but things are moving fast. Dumbledore has called for a meeting of the Wizengamot tonight." He looked at them with concern. "We didn't have time to prepare for this and we think that somebody is going to make a move."

"Who?" asked Ginny.

"I don't know," said Trevor with another shrug. "But you should know that not all of the Dark Lord's supporters have been identified. They weren't all death Eaters." His face was grim. "We know he had help from some powerful people. It was not just Fudge's incompetence which allowed him to act freely for more than a year."

Trevor looked at his empty glass and replaced it on the table.

"Lord Shrummer and I think that they will try for a power grab tonight." He paused. "They may well succeed."

A heavy silence followed. Ginny was clearly worried, but most of all she felt very much out of her depth. Draco was thinking that all this was very plausible.

"What can we do to help?" he asked.

Trevor had been leading him toward that question, but even so, it took all his control not to let show any excitement. Lord Shrummer's gambit was daring, but if it worked, the prize would be worth the risks. And he, Trevor, would be the one to bring the most powerful element. Such a feat would give him great prestige, as well as the gratitude of the big man, and of his beautiful lady friend. He expected a lot from both of them.

"There is something which you could do to bolster Lord Shrummer's position," he said, looking at them carefully. "Something to help him block any attack. A written token of support from the two of you would mean a lot."

"The majority of the Wizengamot will be neutral," he explained. "Some will vote to defend us, and some will side with our enemies. You remember that dinner at the Parkinsons? A number of those who were there will sit in the High Court tonight, and others will have been told of your showing. It could make a difference."

He looked at Draco as he said that. His words were carefully crafted to play on the boy's pride and ambition, and on Ginny's Gryffindor readiness to defend her friends. For himself, Draco was gradually aware that this could set him up in a big way. It made him forget about the bigger picture. This was an opportunity to come out as an important player.

"I'll do it," he said.

Trevor could let some of his excitement show, which was a good thing because it would be difficult to hide the elation which filled him.

"Thank you," he said softly. "I knew that I could count on you." He turned toward Ginny. Hesitation was still visible on her face.

"I'm not sure," she began. "I mean I accept everything you said, but I'm wondering about the consequences. I wish we could talk it out with the others."

Trevor held his breath. Lord Shrummer had specifically asked him to avoid that, but he hadn't fully explained why. Of course if all six signed their support, then it would be that much more significant, but the man must have a good reason. Not letting any of this show, he turned a questioning look toward Draco.

"When is the meeting?" asked Draco.

"In one hour,' said Trevor, which was technically a lie, but a trivial one.

"It would take too long, Gin. You know that we'll be arguing for hours. What with Hermione's attitude and everything."

Ginny didn't like it, but she conceded he had a point. She needed some kind of reassurance though. She looked Draco in the eye.

"Are you really sure about this?" she asked, telling him that she would follow his lead if he really didn't have doubts.

"I am," said Draco with confidence.

Ginny nodded to Trevor who produced a piece of paper. They discussed and agreed on a wording which was in effect a blank check for whatever position Lord Shrummer would take. Trevor couldn't believe it was so easy, and then he told himself that brilliant though they were, his young friends were still very much naive and inexperienced. They would learn in time, and even though he was manipulating them, he told himself it was not to their disadvantage. He saw his part as bringing them to the winner's side. They would discover his little deception in time, but they would forgive him.

"That's very good," he said. "I'll let you know how it went."

"All right. We'd better get back to the school."

- - -

_Ministry of Magic,_

The big circular room was almost filled with purple clothed wizards. There was no chain covered chair in the center this time, and maybe the lighting was a little brighter than for a judicial hearing, but it was still recognizable as the Wizengamot High Court of Justice. Helen had never seen it before, and she was properly impressed. Many aspects of wizard life were funny, but not this room. This room only spoke of implacable power.

She and Bones took their place to the left of the front row, in the area reserved for Ministry officials. There was a high seat across the room for the Chief Warlock, but was still empty, Dumbledore would be the last to enter. Helen was tense. She reached into her pocket to touch the amulet Bones had given her.

"My end of the bargain," the Ministry official had said. "This does not give you any magical power, but it will inhibit Muggle repelling charms, and it will allow you to use the access points between the Muggle and the magical world."

Helen had received the object demurely. It was a visa to a place she had dreamed of. It didn't look like much, a small tab of polished bone with a bizarre symbol carved on it, but holding it in her hand changed everything.

"Thank you," she'd replied. She'd looked up with bright eyes to the other woman's face. Bones had been moved, but she'd made an effort not to show it, preferring instead to prepare herself mentally for what was going to be a difficult session, probably the most important fight of her career.

_Even if I have second thoughts, it is too late now. If I pass up this one chance, then I will never be able to look myself in the mirror again._

She truly believed that she was fighting for a good cause. Even Albus Dumbledore would realize that. He would be angry at first, but she gambled that he would support her in the end. He would have to.

A clerk checked out the list of the announced participants, with Trevor Themis standing in attendance. Bones looked at the young man and noted an unusual excitement there. She wondered if it meant anything. All of them were nervous after all. This meeting would decide many things, not only who would be Minister of Magic for the next five years, but also what policy he would follow.

The clerk checked a last name and nodded to another wizard with a tremendous staff. The wizard usher, waited until everyone was seated, and then he lifted it in the air and brought it down with a tremendous booming sound.

"Gentlemages. Albus Dumbledore, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot."

The staff hit the floor again and everyone rose from their seats. Dumbledore entered in from a side door and trotted toward his reserved seat.

"Thank you, thank you", he said. "Please sit down."

He installed himself in the high seat and considered the assembly before him. As Chief Warlock, he would be responsible for conducting the meeting, and acting as an arbiter on occasion. More importantly, he would be setting the pace of the meeting. The mass of wizards and witches were arranged on concentric half circles on the raised levels. Ministry officials were regrouped to the side. He noted Helen Parker's presence next to Amelia Bones and immediately guessed why she was there. His thoughts were interrupted by the booming staff. It was his cue to start the session.

"Gentlemages. I declare this session of the Wizengamot open," he said.

On his left a magic quill started to write on a long scroll of parchment, inscribing the date and hour after the list of all participants.

"The first order of business is a proposal to relieve the present Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, from his duties, on the ground of mental instability and distress."

The members were invited to express themselves and ask questions. The same witch from St Mungo was called to testify as to Fudge's current status. Another clerk from the Ministry read the reports on the events of the past days, for the benefits of those wizards and witches who hadn't followed the news.

In the end Fudge was voted out of office by a 34 to 3 margin, 6 members abstained.

"The position of Minister of Magic is now open," said Dumbledore. "We will now hear proposals from candidates in this assembly." He surveyed the room. For a moment no one moved. Of course the more serious candidates would wait for the crackpots to open the show. One ancient and regal looking witch finally stood up.

"The Court recognizes the honorable Lady Dragonis," announced Dumbledore, bracing himself for the worse. The old hag had presented herself at every election since joining the Wizengamot. She had absolutely no qualifications, except for an unusually long pedigree and remarkable stubbornness.

"Even since the days of Uther Pendragon..." she began in a screechy and boring voice.

Dumbledore shut her out, like the majority of the assistance. Her spiel was always the same, and nobody listened to her anymore. At least some of the crackpots would show imagination. His thoughts returned to Bones and the presence of Helen at her side.

_So, preventing Hermione from working with her was not enough. She will try it, even without the girl and the full support of the others._

He knew that Helen had been in contact with the students. He had actually welcomed it since it was a Merlin given opportunity to shake up his dear potion professor. A ploy which had gone on quite well, judging from what reports he had received, but which had apparently resulted in Helen being involved up with FOM as well.

His eyes caught Amelia Bones. The challenge in her stare was proof that she was going to present herself, which he expected and might have been ready to support, but on her terms and not on his. He groaned inwardly as he realized that she didn't stand a chance. If the situation had been a peaceful one, then perhaps it might have worked. But today, because of that confounded fool Fudge and the Goblins' susceptibility, they would all be driven by fear and suspicion, and not by higher ideals.

_What can I do? Should I risk proposing my own candidature, or should I let Arthur run with it?_

There were many reasons why he didn't want to be Minister. The main one was that he would be tied in with the obligation of office, and then he would have to resign from Hogwarts and from the position of Chief Warlock. It would cost him a lot of influence and freedom of action, and he wouldn't get much in return.

_Arthur can run with my support. Everyone will know that I will stand behind him._

Their plan was a responsible one, and it offered the best chance for resolving the issue with the Goblins.

Dragonis finished her presentation. There was some scattered polite applause among bored faces. Dumbledore thanked her, but was obvious that she hadn't elicited much interest, let alone passion. If she had actually proposed a solution to their current problem, certainly no one had heard it.

Two other candidates proposed themselves. Professor Stephen Ticklash was a genuine crackpot. He had been trying for some years to get Hogwarts to teach a new branch of magic which he called Ufology. Most of his living hours were spent trying to track down and analyze flukes of magical activities. He called them _Unconscious Fantasmagical Objects_, and he believed that they offered the chance to do things which were, even for wizards, impossible.

"... my dear colleagues. The time has come for this new science to prove itself and help us all..."

Dumbledore listened to his rambling, if only for the sake of keeping an open mind. The man wasn't a complete fool, even if he was one of the _Quibbler's_ most recurrent contributors. Unconscious spell casting existed, and often played a part in wandless juvenile magic, but everyone agreed that it was a kind of random background activity to be reduced by concentration and mental techniques, and not a new resource to tame. Ticklash proposed the creation of an Institute of Ufology, and the financing of a crash project to create a new monetary system.

"... and since this new money will be a magical creation fully in tune with our mental processes, and our unconscious, we can expect to add undreamed of features. For example we could make it _impossible_ to use money for unlawful purposes ..."

The quill at Dumbledore's side scribbled furiously. The paper jerking up and down, and falling on the floor in an untidy heap. More parchment was conjured automatically as was needed. Bones sighed and wondered how much time would pass before they could get down to serious things. The man was insane. Even it there was anything behind his exotic ideas, it would take years to have something practical come out of it, and they needed a solution now. Dumbledore took advantage of a lull in the speech to cut it short.

"Thank very much professor," he said. "This was quite fascinating, but we do have to give everyone a chance to express themselves." The enchanted quill inclined toward him as if giving thanks.

"But I was not finished," lamented the old wizard.

"That is understandable, considering the immense scope of your subject," said Dumbledore soothingly, "I am convinced however that, after the other presentations, many of us will be anxious to ask you additional questions. Once again, thank you."

He invited the professor to return to his seat, which the man did with visible disappointment. The next candidate was so confused that it was impossible to understand more than a few isolated phrases. The scripting quill was making intense use of ellipses and question marks. Several older members, seated in badly lit emplacements, promptly fell asleep, and not a few eyes became glazed. Dumbledore cut him short as well. He gestured to the usher to wake everybody up with a resounding boom of his staff, and gave a sign toward Arthur to announce himself before they all nodded off.

"My dear colleagues," Dumbledore said in a brisk voice. "All this is well and truly fascinating. I am indeed filled with pride at the remarkable diversity of talents present in this very room, but many another candidates are anxious to present themselves. I now call on Arthur Weasley of the Ministry."

Arthur stood up and walked to the center of the room. He was extremely tense, and only the Headmaster's prolonged insistence had convinced him to enter this fray. He heartily wished that he had never accepted Fudge's promotion, but he had a duty to perform and he would not back down. He looked at Dumbledore and took strength from the man's calm face.

"Esteemed colleagues," he started. His voice was croaky and he made an effort to correct it. "We have a crisis to deal with, and we cannot afford to hope for untried methods to solve it. This situation started as one man's folly, but it is now a political problem, and it will be solved by political means. My proposal is to place the revocation of the tax law on the negotiation table with the Goblins, and to draw up a new treaty with them."

Once started, his voice became firmer. He and Dumbledore had carefully prepared his speech and it helped a lot. He went on to describe the points of contention between the two species and how they could be addressed. It was a factual and well documented presentation. It had only one drawback in that it was a purely technocratic platform, a construction of the voice of reason, and as such it didn't address the political and irrational issues of face saving and fear.

But it was the first valid proposal nonetheless, and Dumbledore was happy to see signs of positive reactions among several faces. Many members applauded and the Headmaster joined them with a significant emphasis.

"Thank you very much, Mister Weasley," he said warmly. "My heartfelt congratulations for a superb presentation which was clear and to the point." He nodded to Arthur who hurried back to his seat in relief. "Do we have another proposal?" he asked the assembly.

There was a significant silence, and then Amelia Bones raised her hand. Dumbledore was resigned, but also relieved that no one else was standing for the position. He had expected a conservative candidate to come out and defend a radical agenda, but now it seemed that there wasn't any.

_Surely they would have shown themselves before that. Perhaps they aren't ready._

It was just as well then. If it came down to Bones versus Weasley, then he could work with either outcome. He might even get back on speaking terms with Hermione Granger if FOM ever became Ministry policy, although he didn't give it much of a chance.

_Given a choice between Bones and FOM, or Arthur and me, I do not think the majority will hesitate long._

He interrupted his thoughts to listen to what Amelia Bones was saying.

"... My colleague and friend Arthur Weasley has just said it, we have a crisis. I agree on that but I differ strongly both on the cause and on the remedy." She marked a pause and let her gaze explore the entire assembly. Most of them, and all the 'serious' members were listening with great attention.

"The immediate cause of our present situation is anecdotic. An irresponsible decision was made, but the consequences are so great that we must ask ourselves whether it was a simple reaction, or the inevitable bursting of a dam under too much pressure." She paused again for dramatic effect. "Within my heart, I fully believe that it is the latter."

She continued speaking, using all the arguments Hermione and Helen had compiled to make their case. Dumbledore recognized some which he had made himself. It was a very provocative speech and the assembly wasn't taking it quietly. Several murmurs could be heard, some for her but most were against her.

Dumbledore caught Helen's eyes and sighed inwardly. In his heart he was with them, but they didn't understand that they were addressing an abstract issue, not to mention trying to convince the very people who had sanctioned the existing order which they attacked. It would not work. Bones asked Helen to testify, and she too made a passionate plea, explaining that it would be in the interest of all to work together for the common good, and that even the Goblins would see it. Bones gave the final address.

"In this Ministry's entrance hall," she said, "we have a fountain depicting the future I am proposing tonight. How many of you walk past it and know, deep inside your heart, that it is a lie? How many of you would wince in shame if a child asked you where the smiling Centaurs are? The trustful Goblins? And the happy House Elves?" She looked at the mass of faces, searching for those whose reactions showed the sympathy she was trying to elicit. She was glad to see that there were a few.

"You may think that this is a dream. That it is naive, or even dangerous, to seek such a future. But I believe that the real danger is to let the hatred and the fear grow and destroy us. I hope that some of you will help me to replace the lie with truth, and make the dream a reality."

"This is not something that I dreamed up by myself. Some of you have heard these ideas before. They were conceived by those same heroes who delivered us from a reign of terror. The very ones to which we all owe the greatest of all wizard's debt. They are not here to present it, and it is a shame." She turned toward Dumbledore who sat with a closed face. "Because they are still students, we refuse to grant them wisdom. And yet they have proved themselves, and we were glad to have them save us. They dared and won in a deadly battle again evil. Their ideas are just as daring, and I call on you to join us and fight this other battle."

She stopped talking and not everyone realized immediately that she was finished. When they did the contrast among the assistance was dramatic. A dozen wizards and witches were applauding enthusiastically, some were even standing up. The majority were clapping hands politely, hesitation and misgivings plainly visible among them, and a solid minority was looking at her with distaste. Exclamations and boos reached across the room, and several headed arguments were already starting.

Dumbledore was doing the sums in his head, and he was getting ready to end the presentations and start the debates, when Lord Shrummer stood up and raised his hand. With a sinking feeling, the Headmaster gave him the floor. The discussions stopped as every head turned toward the portly wizard who slowly descended to steps and marched to the center of the arena. He stood there for a moment, his eyes moving as he considered the now silent assembly.

"Gentlemages, I am speechless," started Shrummer with the face of one contemplating an overwhelming disaster.

"Would that you were," muttered Bones in a voice too low to hear.

"What has happened to us," he continued, "that we respond to aggression and blackmail with words of appeasement and friendship? I value my friends, indeed I do. I expect them to stand by me, as I stand by them, to defend ourselves from our enemies."

He turned toward the bench where Bones and Arthur were seated among the Ministry officials.

"Yes. Enemies. I will use that word when I describe those who, not content to live off our industry and work, after centuries of warfare against us, are now seeking to strangle our economy."

He turned around and gestured to the rest of the assembly.

"And so we should negotiate? Make friends? What madness is this!" His voice was booming across the open space. The scribing quill was writing down his words with a strong and bold script, adding exclamation points between most phrases.

Lord Shrummer paused and composed himself an attitude of stubborn and confident strength.

"I say that we must show our power, display our resolve, and make it plain that we do not accept extortion, and that we are not the decadent and weak race that other would have us be. We are wizards! We are those who hold and control the true power of this world, and who assume the responsibility which comes with this. The strong needs not cower to the weak."

There was a thunder of applause from more than third of the room, and a great deal of interrogation on a majority of faces. Dumbledore watched in despair as he could only measure the success of the man's aggressive presentation. He had the usher hit his staff again to restore some order.

"If there are no further candidates, we will now proceed to the debates," he said.

The rules were to allow any members to ask questions, and then vote on the declared candidates, eliminating the weakest one and those with less than a minimal threshold of votes. This would continue until one contestant received an absolute majority or only two remained, in which case there would be a debate and the one with the most votes would win.

The first questions were mostly precisions on the candidates' programs, which could be mixed with obvious show of support. It was accepted that the real debate would begin when all of the 'false' candidates would have been eliminated. Dumbledore made sure to display his support for Arthur, and his distrust of Shrummer.

"We will now proceed to the first round of voting," he announced.

He took out his wand and listed the names of the declared candidates. As he pronounced their name, an appropriate portrait was also displayed on one wall, visible by all. The images were animated and acted in character like other wizard pictures. When he was finished, Dumbledore conjured enchanted ballots in front of all voting members. Opaque bubbles enclosed each of them, until they had made their choice and folded the sheet. Inside his own bubble, he checked Arthur's name and looked at the assembly. Bubbles were busting all over the room. The last ones took longer to disappear, but when they were all gone, he took out his wand again and tallied the result.

Each candidate's score was visible under its picture on the wall. The first tally was:

Sylvia Dragonis2

Stephen Ticklash4

Maximilian Fuzz3

Arthur Weasley8

Amelia Bones12

Septimus Shrummer14

_abstained_0

Shrummer's portrait expressed a proud satisfaction. Bones was determined and Arthur horrified. The other pictures' expressions ranged from disappointment to dejection. Dumbledore was thankful for the fact that Shrummer didn't have an absolute majority, and he was surprised by Bones' strong showing. With a pang of guilt, he realized that if it hadn't been for his decision to block FOM, she might well have secured the first place.

_It is not over yet. _

The three minority candidates were eliminated. Arthur Weasley threw a questioning glance at the Headmaster. Dumbledore knew what the man wanted to do. Renounce his candidacy and join forces with Bones. This would precipitate the debate and the final vote, which might not be a bad tactic. He nodded imperceptibly, and Arthur asked for the floor.

"Gentlemages," he said. "In view of your vote, and for the best interest of our community, I wish to remove my candidacy and declare my support for Amelia Bones. I have worked with her for many years, and I know that she is a fair and competent person. Our positions are not that different, and it would be an honor to assist in her uplifting project. If I may add, I feel that Septimus Shrummer's proposed strategy would be the gravest folly."

Several expressions of surprise were heard from the more naive parts of the assembly. Arthur's portrait snapped a military salute and exited from the picture frame. Shrummer's jaw clenched in anger and he threw a dark look at the man. Privately, he was thrilled at the way the Weasley clan was playing right into his hand. Arthur sat down, relief and determination showed on his face. He looked at Bones and she nodded gratefully toward him, allowing herself a small smile of satisfaction.

Dumbledore announced the start of the debates. Shrummer was given the right of first speech. He repeated his position. His portrait echoing every gesture. Bones spoke next.

"Lord Shrummer," she began, "you call for nothing less than war against the Goblins. Need I remind you of the cost of the last conflict we fought against them? A cost which will be compounded by the certain ruin of our economy." She looked up to the assistance. "I wonder how many of those who would vote for you realize that in that case, they can kiss the content of their Gringotts vaults goodbye?"

There were gasps of horror at her words. Dumbledore judged it to be a low blow, but an effective one. He wondered how Shrummer would counter it. The man didn't look fazed and waited calmly until the hubbub ceased. He looked at Bones and smiled confidently.

"Madam Bones, you are trying to scare this assembly into voting for a disgraceful surrender. This is dishonorable, and I am ashamed for you." It was his turn to take the assembly as witness. "If we show weakness, the Goblins will know that _they can in fact _take our possessions away. They will have proof that they have nothing to fear from us."

His face changed to take on hard and determined expression.

"But if we show them that we are prepared to fight, _then_ it is they who will feel fear. Gringotts is only one place. We can take it by storm. Do you think then that they will exchange their lives for our gold? Bah! They will not. They are cowards and they will yield to our demands."

Bones was taken aback. She could sense that he had made a strong impression, and that she was back on the defensive once more. She had to find another argument against him.

"How remarkable to hear you speak of war and fighting, my Lord," she said. "But where were you when You-Know-You was menacing our very lives? Need I remind you who finally made a stand against him?" She looked up with defiance in her eyes. "Who better than me and my friends know what a war is?" She gestured toward Arthur. "Arthur Weasley was at Hogwarts that day, Albus Dumbledore was there, and so were the six valiant youths who saved the day, _and who stand with us today!_"

The assistance was murmuring furiously. She too had made her impression and Dumbledore knew that the time had come to call for a vote. It would probably be a close thing, but they clearly had the advantage for the moment. He raised his hand to call for the end of the debate but Shrummer spoke first.

"Chief Warlock, I ask for a right of answer to that last statement. Madam Bones makes a serious accusation, and I deserve the right to have it answered."

"Very well my lord, I will only ask you to make it quick, or else I will have to give Madam Bones the floor again."

"I will not be long", said Shrummer. He patted his robes as if search for a misplaced item. Bones raised her eyes in exasperation at his theatrics. "It is a just a short letter which I wish to share with you. Not even my own words - Ah there it is!"

He produced a folder piece of parchment and gestured to the usher to come and get it.

"I think that it would be more appropriate if a third person read it aloud," he said. He turned toward the Headmaster's seat. "And afterwards, we can go straight to the vote, yes?"

Dumbledore knew there was a trick, but the rules of the High Court didn't give him any leeway to refuse. Shrummer had just managed to get the last word in, and there was not a thing he could do about it.

"Very well my lord." He turned toward the usher. "Will you please read us the letter?"

The usher cleared his throat and opened the folded paper

"Hum. _We the undersigned, declare our unrestricted support to Lord Septimus Shrummer, whom we trust to carry on his responsibilities for the best interest of the wizard community._"

The man showed surprise as he got to the last part of the note. He looked up with a frightened face and finished reading. "It is signed._ Ginevra Weasley and Draco Malfoy._"

Dumbledore was thunderstruck and speechless. Arthur looked as if someone had just planted a knife through his heart. Throughout the room, gasps of surprise and outrage were heard, along with exclamations of indignation.

"... fraud. How dared she presume deserving ..."

"... Shrummer is right. We cannot trust ..."

"... vote now. An inquiry ..."

Bones was looking alternatively at Shrummer and at Dumbledore with a cold rage which turned into loathing. She was sure that a trap had been set for her by both wizards. Helen was confused. The only thing she could understand was that they had probably lost. It would have distressed her, but she felt strangely detached. It was only when she gave a thought to Hermione that she began to realize how hard it was going to be for her friend.

A stunned Dumbledore called the vote in a mechanical voice. There was nothing else he could do. Something terrible had happened, and he knew that it was mostly because of his negligence.

_I should have checked what the others were doing. Draco made a terrible mistake, at least I hope it was a mistake, but I should have been there, or Severus._

It was then that he realized that he had done everything to prevent Severus from keeping an eye on Draco. He had distracted the man at precisely the worst possible moment.

_This is all my fault._

The guilt was devastating. He would have to deal with it later, if that was ever possible, but now he had a duty to perform. The votes were tallied once more, and the results were clear.

Amelia Bones14

Septimus Shrummer23

_abstained_3

"Lord Septimus Shrummer is pronounced Minister of Magic," he said in an empty voice. "The session is closed." The Wizard's picture exulted in victory.

The room slowly emptied. He looked at Arthur and saw the pain of betrayal on his face. The man remained seated as Dumbledore came down and walked toward him, ignoring Bones' cold glare.

"It is not her fault, Arthur," he said softly. "Blame me, but do not blame her."

"Albus, What? I- I don't understand ..."

The man looked ready to break down. Dumbledore forced himself to act, to go on a little longer, if only for his friend's sake.

"Let me take you home, my friend. We will talk about this later."

Above them, in her observation booth, Rita Skeeters was hurriedly writing up the last of her notes. She had just gotten the scoop of her life and nothing mattered in the rest of the universe. Good or bad, what she had just witnessed would make her career.

_Only if those two don't forbid me to use it._

She reluctantly left the booth to wait for them outside the courtroom's door, but Bones and Dumbledore passed her by without a glance, both of them too immersed in their misery to care about a mere reporter. She decided that she could take it as a permission to use everything she had. It was long past the _Prophet's_ closing time, but with a story like that, she felt justified in waking up every last worker of the newspaper, from the chief editor to the lowest paper boy, and having the whole edition rewritten.

History didn't happen every day.


	24. Chapter 23 Bad Sunday

_The morning after the Wizengamot debacle. Hurts for everybody, except the bad guys who are doing fine._

* * *

**_Chapter 23 – Bad Sunday_**

_Hogwarts,_

The Sunday morning breakfast was always a more drawn out affair than on the other days of the week. The tables were served until ten, instead of the usual eight thirty. Many students took the opportunity to have a cozy lie-in, while others appreciated the opportunity of taking their time, and maybe even getting double helpings.

Despite this, Harry woke up at his customary time. He threw a glance at Ron's bed and proceeded with the well established ritual of waking the other boy for their morning run. Ron was all for sports and exercises, even more so these days than before, but it hadn't turned him into an early riser, especially when he had spent the previous evening with Luna. It was always a little show to watch him stumble along from his bed to the bathroom, and from there, get on to the tricky task of dressing up without forgetting a crucial item of clothing.

The school corridors were chilly and damp, as befitted a medieval castle in winter, but that was nothing compared to the blast of cold air which struck at them as they came out into the grounds. They started to jog immediately; it was a good way to get warm after all. They usually did several laps around the lake, three when the weather was warm, but never more than two at this time of the year. After the first one, Harry called out for a breather.

"Can we just walk a second," he asked.

Ron showed surprise. Harry wasn't panting that badly, and he normally showed excellent endurance, so it wasn't just a question of taking it easy. A look at his friend's face made him guess that it had more to do with a desire to talk.

"Sure," he replied.

He started to breath deeply and executed some stretching moves. Harry did the same, and they walked silently for a moment until they had caught their breath.

"I want to talk to you about Hermione," he began.

Ron nodded noncommittally and waited for him to continue. He had also been thinking about their situation these past days, as well as talking about it with Luna, or rather; Luna had talked to him about it. They had come to the conclusion that things were complicated enough without he and Hermione cold shouldering each other. He was ready to make up, and Harry was the best one to act as go between, but several things had to be set right first.

"Don't read too much into what she said," continued Harry. "She's got other things bothering her, and that explains part of her attitude."

Ron wanted to get one thing clear first.

"And how do _you_ feel about what I want to do," he said. "I mean about Quidditch and Comil and all that." _If the deal doesn't fall out because of those bloody Goblins._

Harry's expression was open and frank.

"I think it's a good thing," he said. "You've found something that you like and that you are pretty good at. I say go for it, mate."

"You're real sure about that?"

"I am."

"Good," replied Ron with a wry expression of relief. "Thanks."

"Listen Ron," continued Harry. "I'll talk to her, and I'm pretty sure that I can get her to see it this way too. All I ask is that you go half way."

Ron pondered this. His pride was the only thing which seemed to stand in front of reconciliation. He saw a pebble on the ground before them and kicked it. It went over the grass and fell into the lake. They looked at the ripples for a moment.

"Tell you what. You get her to do that, and then I'll apologize for what I said, and afterward we hug each other like a pair of stupid idiots," he said grinning, but not looking at Harry directly.

"That sounds fun. I'm on," replied Harry with a grin of his own.

The two boys looked at each other, slightly embarrassed by the exchange. The whole thing was childish when they looked at it.

"I'm going to organize some preliminary tryouts this morning," said Ron, changing the subject. "Sniffing out talent for the next year team. You want to come and watch?" he asked.

"Sounds good."

"Okay then. Let's finish this and get back to the school and some breakfast."

- - -

_Electra's home,_

Trevor woke up in a strange bed with a big happy smile on his face.

_What a night!_

The previous day had been one of the most memorable of his life. After meeting Draco and Ginny, he had returned to give Lord Shrummer their precious token of support. Electra had been there as well, and Trevor had felt ridiculously proud for what he had managed.

"Even better than we hoped," had boomed Shrummer. "Well done my boy. With this in hand, they won't stand a chance tonight."

"Well done indeed," had murmured Electra with a slight smile. "But I had no doubts about your charms."

Since she couldn't be a witness at the Wizengamot session, she had given him a memory crystal and asked him to join her afterwards, so that he could give his report verbatim. The burning look in her eyes had carried the promise of more than just that.

He had followed the proceedings of the court, up to the dramatic final and the decisive victory for their side. Afterwards he had recovered the Apparation coordinates inside the crystal to get to this place, which looked to be her home. For the second time that day, he had been the bearer of positive news, basking in the glory of their success. And then politics had taken second place to another passion.

He shook his head in memory. He had never met a woman like Electra. All his previous encounters paled in comparison. He still didn't know what her role actually was. They had talked a little. She seemed to consider Shrummer's new position as a secondary thing. He thought that if her ambitions were higher than the Ministry of Magic, then she was surely a leader to follow, and she certainly had things to offer that Shrummer couldn't match.

He looked at the window and considered the bright morning light of the winter sun. He didn't know where they were, but it obviously wasn't England. The view was that of a mountainous landscape, the ground and trees were covered with snow. He tried to guess what country it could be. Electra spoke with a very faint accent which suggested central Europe. These mountains could be the Alps. He would have to ask.

"Slept well?" asked a feminine voice. He turned to see her coming back into to room. She was wearing a loose fitting robe and a teasing expression.

"Did we sleep at all?" he answered. "I don't remember."

She chuckled and came closer to the bed. He felt his heart beating faster. Her eyes fixed on his, and her hand reached out. Even in the morning, she was something to watch with awe.

"Once again," she asked. Alarm showed on his face.

_Merlin! Does she ever need rest?_

He certainly did, and he didn't consider himself to be below average in that department. His spirit was certainly willing. Actually at that point, there was nothing he wouldn't attempt for her, but failure would be embarrassing.

"Not that!" she said, laughing at his expression. Her fingers caressed his temple and shivers ran through him. "Show me his face again."

She wanted him to replay the memory of Dumbledore's defeat when Shrummer had produced the note and turned the vote around. He was amazed at the things she could do. With a touch of her hand, she could use him as a living pensieve.

He recalled the scene for her. Her talent made him see it as sharply as normal vision. He could sense her excitement and delight at the old man's surprise and pain. She had already watched this three times last night, and now once again this morning. He wondered if she was going to keep him around for that purpose more than anything else.

_What has the man done to her to elicit such hatred?_

To him, Dumbledore had never been more than a distant and generally inoffensive Headmaster. Likewise in the Wizengamot, he had never seen him act so forcibly as to make enemies. He never even raised his voice in session. Trevor knew that he was considered the most powerful wizard of the age, but few had ever testified to seeing this demonstrated.

His thoughts were interrupted when she crushed his mouth with hers. They fell back on the bed, her body moving over his, and then he found out that he wasn't so tired after all. His right hand came around her back and sought the fastening of her robe. She laughed again and broke easily away. As he had already found out, she had the strength and the muscles of a fighter.

"That will have to wait, my young friend," she said. She kissed him again and then pushed him back playfully, her hands lingering just long enough against his chest to let him know that it was only a reprieve.

"Must you go now?" he asked.

"Just for a little while," she said. "Something to finish." She stood up and her eyes were gleaming. "A final touch of the brush, you might say," she added mysteriously, before Disapparating silently. The absence of the usual cracking sound was another display of her abilities.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Draco had come down for breakfast a little later than usual. As he entered the hall, he crossed a cheerful Ron coming out with half a roll in his mouth, and mumbling something about Quidditch tryouts. He had evidently been eating with Ginny who was seated alone at the Gryffindor table. Draco wished him luck and went toward her. As he came closer, he couldn't help but notice that she looked tense and tired.

"Hi there, Looks like you didn't sleep well." he remarked.

"Not really," she replied, giving him an absent minded kiss. "I stayed awake for hours, and then I had this horrible nightmare."

He gave her a look of sympathy and reached out for the coffee pot.

"Worried about something?"

She nodded weakly. She was worried about many things actually. Last night's meeting, how her father was holding up at the Ministry, what was the matter with Hermione, the tension among the six of them, Trevor's visit and finally that note they had signed. There were so many things troubling her that it was really ridiculous, and she didn't want to talk about it. They had discussed all this before, and Draco had dismissed it all as temporarily problems which would find their eventual solutions.

_Maybe he's right. Maybe I'm just worrying for nothing._

But it did feel like the oppressive calm before a storm.

_Maybe._

"Hi there!"

They turned to see Harry and Hermione coming down. He was smiling and she looked more relaxed this morning.

"Hi," replied Draco. Ginny felt a constriction in her throat and just tried to force a smile.

"Hey Gin, are you all right?" asked Harry with concern. The girl was so pale, that he was ready to suggest that she go and see Madam Pomfrey right away, but Ginny didn't answer. The sense of impending doom was getting stronger.

_I hope I'm just sick, and not prescient or anything._

They started to eat. Ginny had poured herself a cup of tea, but it was lying untouched before her. She wasn't really nauseous or anything, but food seemed the least important thing right now.

"Did the owl mail arrive yet?" asked Hermione. She didn't expect much from the Sunday edition of the _Prophet_ but maybe something had happened concerning the Goblins.

"No," replied Draco. "Maybe they're having a lie-in like everybody else." He grinned. Since Ginny hadn't gotten another private owl from Trevor, there was probably nothing urgent to report.

They continued to eat. Harry and Draco exchanged pleasantries. A short time later, the owls came flying into the hall, dropping their loads in front of the waiting students.

"Ah!" said Hermione, raising her hands to catch the falling magazine. "Just in time for my second cup. Harry? Can you pour me another one?"

He obliged while she broke the seal and scanned the first page.

_"New Minister of Magic Chosen by the Wizengamot"_

_An exclusive by Rita Skeeters._

"I didn't know they had scheduled a meeting yesterday," mused Hermione. She looked at Draco with a questioning expression, and he suddenly felt a cold chill along his spine.

"Er, well why not?" he said with some embarrassment. _Something is wrong. I don't know what, but something is very wrong._

Hermione began reading, and she immediately started to frown. A sudden tension rose among them. They could all feel it, like an unseen monster coming in from the darkness. She looked up for a moment. They were all staring at her. No one said anything, but was as if they had suddenly become conscious that something momentous was waiting to happen. Her eyes falling back on the article, Hermione read on quickly. The others couldn't see what was written, and they didn't dare come closer and look over her shoulder. Rita Skeeters had written this one like a novel, milking the suspense and saving it for the end. She described the sober atmosphere of the court room, the dramatic plea of Helen Parker and of Amelia Bones...

Hermione stopped breathing as she read the paragraph detailing Lord Shrummer's victorious counter-attack. The words were in her mind, their meaning clear on a literal level, but the full comprehension seemed impossible.

_There must be a mistake. They can't have done this!_

She dropped the paper and looked Draco straight in the eye.

"Is it true? Did you do this?"

Draco swallowed. The sense of doom was still there, augmented by his ignorance.

"What am I supposed to have done?" he snapped with annoyance.

"It says there was a note from the Six Founders. Your _friend _Shrummer produced it. Did _you _write it?"

Draco frowned and showed a look of injured innocence. The note didn't mean anything, and if it had helped Shrummer get elected, that was a fine thing. _What is she fretting about?_

Her eyes crossed over to Ginny's, and she saw the guilt and the fear on her face. The younger girl flinched under her friend's stare, and when she threw an involuntary glance at Draco Hermione had everything she needed.

"YOU TRAITOROUS PIECE OF SHIT!" she screamed. She stood up and pointed her finger at him. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID?"

"Hermione-" started Draco. He was really trying to be reasonable, but the girl was beyond reason.

"YOUR FRIENDS SKEWERED THE ASSOCIATION! AND ARTHUR WEASLEY AS WELL!" she shouted, beside herself with fury. Draco's eyes opened wide as he finally put together what she must be talking about. Ginny looked horrified. Hermione took a deep breath to control herself.

"You two are the most disgusting people I ever saw," she said in a voice full of spite.

She took the newspaper and threw it down on the table, upsetting Ginny's untouched cup of tea. The cold liquid splashed her robe and Draco's. Ginny didn't move. She turned a pleading face toward Hermione, but the other girl didn't even give her a chance to speak. Her face was a mask of anger and injury. Part of her wanted to rage at them, but another one was so disgusted that the less she stayed here the better.

She pushed away her chair and made to turn away. She hesitated, turned back and looked Draco straight in the eye.

"This is really a grand start in your chosen career, Draco Malfoy" she said with infinite loathing. "It would have made your father proud."

He took the insult like a knife in the gut. He blanched but didn't say anything as Hermione stomped away. Ginny gasped at the accusation, she looked ready to break into sobs until Draco's hand covered hers. _We didn't do anything wrong_, he told her. _I don't know what happened, but she's got no right to accuse us. _Harry reached out to take the dripping wet magazine from the table. He decided that he would read the article before saying anything. I could guess some of what had happened, but getting the full story could be important.

An eerie silence followed while he scanned through the pages. Draco and Ginny watched him like an accused might consider a jury discussing the case. They were recovering from the initial shock, and a look of self-righteousness now hardened Draco's features, but when Harry looked up, his face was as hard as his. There was not much aside from that article, but it was pretty much damming nonetheless.

_They killed her dream, and Ginny pulled the vote against her father. How could they have done such a thing?_

"Why?" he asked simply.

Impatience flashed in Draco's eyes. He didn't answer and reached out to take the paper roughly from Harry's hand. He and Ginny read it quickly, skipping over the details they already knew. When he was finished, Draco finally understood why Hermione had reacted that way.

_Damn it, what a bloody mess._

"Shrummer asked for our help," he said quickly. "To secure his position against a coalition who wanted to cave in to the Goblins' demands. We knew nothing of this business with FOM, or of what Ginny's father was planning. This is all the Headmaster's fault."

_Harry will understand that Dumbledore and Bones played a stupid game, and that Arthur got drawn into it._

He was still holding Ginny's hand, and he could sense that she accepted his argument, although there was something else in her mental aura. He ignored it for the moment and concentrated on convincing Harry.

In the light of this new development, Harry reviewed all that he and Hermione had discussed. Everything fitted perfectly. Bones had been deprived of Hermione's support, while Dumbledore had let Draco help her enemy. He felt a cold anger and a terrible sense of betrayal.

"How can you expect me to believe you?" he said coldly.

Surprise and righteous anger showed in Draco's eyes. He could understand Hermione's attitude, but Harry was his friend. He had never doubted that, and he was counting on it. He couldn't understand this.

"Harry I swear-"

"Save your breath," interrupted the other boy. He stood up, turned away and walked off, without throwing a single look backward.

Draco watched him go away with a sinking sensation. He could feel Ginny's trembling hand in his, and he heard the rising noise level in the hall as more students received the news and discussed it. Already angry shouts could be heard, as individuals took stands on the issue.

A little voice in his mind told him that he had to do something quickly, such as arguing and defending their action. He would find some support among the students. He had no doubts of that, and he still believed that Trevor and Shrummer were fighting for the right cause. What had happened didn't change his mind. He and Ginny had chosen sides in a political battle. He had expected to pay for it with heated arguments with his friends. He hadn't expected to lose them over it.

And certainly not like that.

- - -

Harry had gone off to find Hermione. The Marauder's Map placed her in the library and so he went there, hoping she wouldn't be a mental wreck like the last time. Surprisingly, she was working. He found her scowling as she was carefully re-reading the _Prophet's_ edition, and checking facts in a book about the statutes of the Wizengamot.

"Mione? You okay?"

She looked up and managed to scowl even harder.

"Er, Sorry," he added. "Of course not. Stupid question, I know." He tried a weak smile.

She sighed and dropped the book. She moved her hand forward on the table and he took it.

"It's okay Harry," she replied tiredly. "I'm mad as hell, but not at you."

"I guess you were right about everything," he said sadly. "What can we do?"

The frown returned on her face. She rearranged the books in front of her. Her fingers tapped nervously on the table surface. Her face was screwed in concentration.

"Well, I really don't know," she confessed. "We're pretty much locked up here, and we certainly can't trust anybody anymore." She considered her notes. "I want to check a couple of things, and then we can meet at Hagrid's later." She looked up. "Why don't you join Ron right now? Tell him that I take back what I said. He may be crazy about Quidditch, but it looks like he's the sanest person around compared with the rest of this."

"You're sure about it?" asked Harry. "I mean, I could stay here with you."

She shook her head and confirmed that she wanted to finish her work. Harry had known Hermione long enough to know that this kind of thing was a relaxant for her, however strange it seemed to him. They exchanged a quick kiss and he moved away. He visited the dormitory to recover some warm clothes and his broom, and then he descended to the main entrance and from there on to the Quidditch practice. He couldn't help smiling as he heard the first shouts coming from the players.

_Hermione's right. Ron's got the right perspective._

He was also extremely relieved that both his friends seemed ready to let bygones be bygones about their past row. He still didn't know if he was ever going to forgive Draco and Ginny, and that would hurt badly enough, but least Ron, good old Ron, would be back at his side like he always had been.

Harry didn't see the magpie watching his approach from one of the spectator stands, and he couldn't know that he was expected. Electra had been ready to influence one of the smaller students to go and get him, but now her last target was finally coming in like the good boy she knew him to be. All the elements were in place, and she was going to put the final touch on her masterpiece.

Ron had gathered all of the first through third year students who wanted a chance to play on the team next year. There would be at least three players leaving, including both Beaters, and the loss of experience would make a glaring gap in his troops. Tryouts were normally made at the start of the year, but Ron had decided to anticipate some talent screening now. The idea being that the more hopeful applicants would have the rest of the year, and all summer, to practice, and thus would be better prepared for the official tryouts. They had been going at it for half an hour now. Ron, with some of the more experienced players, had made the kids display how good, or bad they were at flying.

As Harry arrived, his friend and Kirke were arguing furiously about something.

"Damn it Andrew!" said Ron. "That was the weakest shot I ever saw. Do you even remember how to hit a Bludger?"

"Don't tell _me_ how to play," retorted Kirke. "This isn't a match, and those kids are doing this for the first time. I'm just giving them a decent chance."

It sounded reasonable enough to Harry, but Ron was really incensed. He took the bat from Kirke's and impatiently motioned to another student make his pass. The next one was a third year old named Isaac Tobin. He was seated more or less firmly on his broom, grasping the handle in his left hand, and holding the bat in his other.

"Right," said Ron "Same play. You fly in front of me, I throw the Bludger, and you hit it. Don't even try to aim at anything. Just hit it. Nothing simpler. Ready?"

The boy looked a little unsure, but he nodded and flew toward the starting position.

"Go!" said Ron.

The boy made his pass and Ron smashed the Bludger. _A little roughly,_ thought Harry. Isaac managed to make the bat connect, not really squarely, but it was a hit nonetheless.

"Good!" said Ron. He gestured to Kirke to recover the Bludger. "Next one now."

A couple more went, and Harry thought that Ron was really overdoing the testing. Some of the kids were terrified and performed badly. Ron was yelling at them and becoming very excited. This could be dangerous.

"Ron..." started Harry. He didn't want to play back seat captain, or to embarrass his friend, but Ron really needed to go easier.

"I know what I'm doing!" barked Ron. "NEXT!"

The next one to fly was Alicia Parker. Most of the students were obviously put off by the hard play, but she was anything but afraid. She called out a shout of challenge and rushed forward.

"That's the spirit for Gryffindor!" approved Ron. "Get ready for it. Now!"

He struck the Bludger smartly and Harry saw it fly toward for her. It was going very fast, and he immediately saw that Ron had put a nasty spin on it. Instead of flying straight, it rose fast and then came down hard. Alicia had been ready to deflect it with a standard horizontal move, but she suddenly realized that it wasn't possible anymore. And then she panicked and banked sharply, to put her broom between herself and the incoming missile. It was a very dangerous move, and Harry yelled a warning and moved toward her.

It was much too late. The Bludger stuck the broom handle and, since it was an old and tired training model, it broke in half under the impact. This wouldn't have mattered much except that her last move had pointed her at the ground. She hit hard and immediately screamed.

Everyone rushed toward the spot. Harry got there first and the first thing he saw was blood. A great deal of blood. His eyes opened in horror as he realized that the broom handle had split along its length to form a long shard, and that it had penetrated beneath her arm and into her chest. The girl was screaming in pain and panic.

"GET MADAM POMFREY! QUICKLY!" yelled Harry. He knelt next to Alicia, but there was nothing that he dared to do. Pulling out the shard might well do even more harm than letting it there. The only thing he felt was possible was to cut the greater length of the handle. He did this with a quick _Diffido_. He then tried to keep her from thrashing around and making the damage worse.

"HARRY! IT HURTS!" she screamed. Her eyes were lost in pain and fear and he winced at his helplessness.

"Calm down! Calm d-" he said. He had to swallow a terrible lump blocking his throat before he could speak clearly "Alicia. You've got to stay still and hold on. I know it hurts but don't move. Help is coming."

He held the arm on the wounded side above her body, and pressed his hand against her neck with the other. She gripped him with her free hand.

"Harry!" she chocked. Her teeth were chattering, and some blood flowed from her mouth. She was trying to be brave, to be a true Gryffindor, even though she was just a little girl gravely wounded and in awful pain.

Harry talked back to her, saying whatever passed through his mind. He wasn't thinking very clearly. The thought that she could die, right before his eyes, was unbearable. What was the nurse doing? They should have a portkey to the infirmary for that kind of accident. What in hell was Ron thinking? Throwing a Bludger like that. The whole world was going mad today.

Madam Pomfrey finally arrived. She pushed Harry aside and immediately cast an anesthetic charm on Alicia.

"_Somnus Sine Dolere!_"

The girl mercifully lost consciousness. The nurse examined the wound and tututted while shaking her head.

"You can save her Poppy?" asked Harry, using the nurse's nickname without thinking. He couldn't take his eyes away from Alicia. The nurse didn't reply immediately. She could see that the fractured broom handle had been driven deep inside the girl's body at an awkward angle. It was actually just under the ribs, and the tip might not be far from the heart. Moving her in these circumstances was out of the question.

"We must remove this first," she said. "I will try something to help us pull it out. Mister Kirke, you will hold the girl. Grab her upper arms and keep her steady. Mister Potter, take that handle. When I say so, you will pull it out, _along its length._ Do you understand?"

They indicated that they did. Neither of them saw a terribly anxious Ron, wringing his hands and standing behind them.

"The spell will distend the tissues and bones so that you can do this easily," continued the nurse. "I cannot apply it for long without serious damage, so you will need to move fast. Are you ready?"

Harry was white faced and unable to speak. He just nodded and hoped it wouldn't be too ghastly to watch. Kirke took his position and Madam Pomfrey moved her wand in a complicated wave over the girl's body.

"_Diducere Costum Pulmo!_" she murmured.

A horrible rending sound was heard, like a butcher disarticulating a lump of meat. Harry knew that he was going to be sick. He would just try to have it happen later rather than right now.

"Now! Mister Potter," she snapped.

She was still holding her wand over Alicia's chest. Harry tried not to think about what was happening to his friend. Tears were running down his face, but he slowly pulled the wooden stake out of her body. It made an awful slurping sound, and a great deal of blood flowed out. The nurse mumbled another incantation _Vulmeris Glutinato!_ and the blood stopped.

"Good, good," she said as Harry continued the grisly work. Kirke's face was green and he finally closed his eyes. Harry gritted his teeth and kept pulling at the impossibly long shard. It didn't seem possible that something so long could be driven into a person without killing it.

And then it was over. Harry looked in disbelief at the gory stake in his hands. Madam Pomfrey ended her spell _Erijere Restituere Textus! _and another terrible squashy noise came out from poor Alicia's body. Harry rolled over and threw up on the grass.

"All right," said the nurse grimly. "I will carry her to the infirmary. Well done both of you."

She barely gave Harry's prone form a quick glance. She didn't doubt he would pull through. The boy was indestructible, and she was well placed to know it. She occupied herself with checking Alicia's opened wound.

"_Glutinato!_"

She checked it again, frowned and repeated the spell. She suddenly seemed to take a decision and levitated the girl and make quickly for the infirmary.

"All right! What exactly happened here?" spat the angry voice of professor McGonagall.

Harry wiped his mouth of bile and looked up at her, and then at Alicia and the nurse moving away. He was worried. _She cast that spell twice, and she didn't say she'd be safe._ He heard Kirke give a succinct description of the preceding events. Several of the students were adding details to the story. Kirke was gesturing angrily toward Ron, who was protesting no less violently.

"He was throwing those Bludgers much too hard," insisted Kirke. "I and Harry told him so, but he wouldn't listen."

"I was not!" exclaimed Ron. "It was just an exercise."

"And then he threw a vertical curve ball at Alicia!" accused Kirke.

"THAT'S A LIE!" screamed Ron.

"NO IT'S NOT!" screamed back Kirke. "We all saw it. It was the nastiest toss I ever saw, and you threw it _at a first year!_"

McGonagall turned a severe face at Ron.

"Mister Weasley, did you throw a curve ball at Miss Parker?" she asked.

"I did not!" shot back Ron. He was very agitated, shuffling from one foot to the other. His hands trembled, and his eyes were darting from one person to the next. He looked at Harry who was still on the ground.

"Harry! Tell them what happened!"

Harry looked at his friend. The image of Alicia's bleeding side was in his mind and he couldn't shake it out. _Why doesn't Ron just come clean? We all saw it._

McGonagall turned toward Harry.

"Mister Potter, what did you see? Was it a curve ball?"

Ron was staring at him, the very picture of accused and desperate innocence. He evidently expected Harry to explain that it was all a mistake, that Ron had not done anything dangerous. Harry looked back and couldn't understand why his friend would ask him to lie about such a grave matter. Ron was usually an honest guy. _Alicia almost died._

"Ron," said Harry. "You made a terrible mistake. Why don't you admit it?"

Stupefied outrage showed on Ron's face. Either he was a superb actor, or he was deranged enough to delude himself.

"Mister Potter," said McGonagall. "Answer the question please."

"It was," said Harry. "It was a curve ball, and a fast one. Ron, don't do this to yourself."

"LIAR!" screamed Ron. He moved toward Harry and would have jumped on him if it hadn't been for Kirke blocking him.

"Mister Weasley, control yourself!" exclaimed McGonagall.

Ron looked around like a mad and cornered animal.

"YOU'RE ALL IN THIS AGAINST ME," he said.

"MISTER WEASLEY, SILENCE!" thundered the professor

He stopped and glared at her.

"Your conduct is nothing less than criminal," she announced. "It is certainly not what I expect of the Gryffindor captain," Ron's eyes opened wide in panic, "or of a Gryffindor prefect."

She took out her wand. "_Accio Insignis!_" Both the Captain and the Prefect badges tore from Ron's robe and jumped into her hand.

Stupefied, Ron looked at the twin symbols of his status, now forcibly taken from him. It was a nightmare. He knew that he hadn't thrown any curve ball. He remembered having calculated with precision the Bludgers he had shot at the students. In his mind everything had been going smoothly. There had been an accident, and he was being treated like a criminal.

"This will cost Gryffindor fifty point, and a week's detention helping Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary," added McGonagall

Ron was devastated, and the pain of injustice was a fire burning in his head. They were taking all he had from him. It was all too much, after those bloody Goblins had ruined his project with Sir Comil, the same Goblins whose defense Hermione always took, and now Harry had trapped and betrayed him, probably for getting the Prefect's badge himself. He figured that Kirke was probably going along with him for the Captaincy.

"YOU SWINE!" he screamed at Harry. "YOU ALWAYS GET EVERYTHING YOUR WAY. YOU COULDN'T STAND THAT I HAD ANYTHING TO MY NAME."

He tried to reach him again, to strike madly at him in any way he could. Harry was taken aback at the viciousness in Ron's voice.

"Ron ..." he began.

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT! I HATE YOU! I DON'T EVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!"

McGonagall had to separate them. Ron was sent away, as well as the other students. The professor looked at the ex-captain's retreating back with disgust. She turned toward Harry who was still standing, numb with shock. Her sympathy for him was diminished by his association with Hermione's provocations. Furthermore, she held him to be the _de facto _leader of the group, and in that respect she felt that he had certainly let things get terribly out of hand.

"Mister Potter, I suggest that you go and clean up," she said, looking at him with a stern face. "I only want to add that I am extremely dissatisfied by all of you since the beginning of this term. Frankly you have disappointed me, and I only hope that you will pull yourselves together in the future."

Harry looked back and remembered that this woman had tricked Hermione, and that she was his enemy, or at least in league with people who were his enemies. He just stared back and said nothing. Presently she left, and then he was alone in the middle of the Quidditch pitch.

Behind the wooden partition, Electra showed a cruel smile, and could hardly keep herself from laughing out loud. She hadn't had any trouble in manipulating the Weasley boy, he was by far the weakest of the six mentally, and she only had to push the others a little. The result had been perfect. Those upstarts were only dangerous when they were together. Between what she and Trevor had done, that wouldn't happen for a long, long time. Maybe even never.

_At the very least we will have finished our plan and secured our objective before any beginning of reconciliation, and if needed, I can always intervene again._

It was time for her to get back to her home, and to her new lover. Trevor was a good one. She wondered if Shrummer had prepared him especially for her. She wouldn't put it past him.

_But is he a gift, or a trap?_

She would amuse herself with the handsome Slytherin for a while, and she would test his loyalty. If Trevor was tainted then he would die, and Shrummer would pay a heavy price, otherwise, the boy's allegiance would become the prize of a game between the new Minister of Magic and her.

_What lovely games we play together._

- - -

_Ministry of Magic,_

"Thank you all for being there on such short notice," said Lord Septimus Shrummer.

He was comfortably installed in the luxurious leather chair behind the big desk of the Minister of Magic office. The chair had enlarged to fit his massive frame. Around him, the pictures of the former Ministers were practically seated at attention, and looking on with curiosity at the new leader. As tradition commanded, a spot had been reserved for Fudge, almost but not quite behind a potted plant. It was still void because the painting wasn't finished yet.

Arthur Weasley, Albus Dumbledore and Amelia Bones were seated next to each other, across from the Minister. They all looked tired and unhappy, and they all had grave misgivings about the situation, but they were also loyal to their community, and today Shrummer was the legitimate representative of all wizards and witches. They didn't have to like it however, and so they simply nodded in silent acknowledgment.

"I have several things to say," continued Shrummer in a firm voice of unchallenged authority. "First, the election is over and done with, and even if I realize that it is not easy for you, I am asking you to put it behind us. I respect your opinion, but it is mine which has been vindicated."

He paused and looked at the three faces before him. Bones and Dumbledore's were unreadable. T hey knew the score and how the game was played, but Arthur couldn't hide his sentiments as well as them. Yesterday, this morning actually, the Headmaster had accompanied him to the Burrow. Molly and Percy had been waiting for them. They'd taken the news of Ginny's action badly. Losing the election was nothing, but having happen because of what they could only consider to be a backstabbing blow by a member of the family was devastating. Percy hadn't said anything. The memory of his own estrangement was vivid enough to make him keep quiet. Dumbledore had conjured some dreamless sleep potion for Molly. She was still sleeping when the Ministry Owl had awakened Arthur for this morning's meeting.

Arthur knew that his career was finished. Bones should be able to weather this in the short term. She had a strong position in the Ministry and her department was a powerful one. It would not be easy to replace her, and Law Enforcement would be important in the immediate future.

_It fact it will probably take over Goblin Liaison_, he thought desperately.

In his dejected mood, all that Arthur hoped for was to return to his old department, and his ridiculous but familiar office. If he couldn't have that, well he would find another job. He was sure of one thing certainly, nothing could be worse than what he'd had to go through the last few days.

Shrummer was considering the man in front of him, and guessing at most of his thoughts. It only confirmed his opinion that Weasley would not have made a good Minister of Magic. Although he had principles, and the portly Slytherin respected that, the man lacked ambition, and he had to be prodded to act decisively. That was a major weakness.

"Second," went on Shrummer. "We need to solve this Goblin business. Arthur, I want you to reopen contact with them, and explain our new position."

Arthur was astounded.

"Why me? I thought that you ... That I ..."

"You are still in charge of Goblin Liaison," stated Shrummer. "I see no reason to replace you. In fact I think that you have done a good job, but that the policy you were made to follow was flawed. I will give you a new and better one."

Arthur could guess what that would be, and there was no way that he would preside over a war with the Goblins.

"Sir I don't think that-" The Minister raised his hand.

"Arthur," he interrupted. "In a serious negotiation, one must use show both a stick and a carrot. I am not going to going to ask you to be the stick. I know that you want to resolve this peacefully, and I am giving you a chance to do that." He turned toward Dumbledore. "And you as well, Albus."

Dumbledore was surprised. Like Arthur he had expected the new Minister to confine them to the sidelines, which he too would have almost welcomed, so tired and miserable that he was. He forced himself to sit up and prepare for what was coming.

"What are you proposing sir?" he asked.

"I am taking the position that the Goblins have overreached their prerogative, and that it is _they_ who are at fault," said Shrummer. "And so I am giving them a simple choice: Lift the ban and we start negotiations, or else we go to war, economically or militarily."

"What do you mean 'economically'?" asked Bones.

"I mean we apply your plan to break the Gringotts monopoly," said Shrummer, gesturing toward Dumbledore. "I mean, we drive them out of business and out of our world." He sat back in his chair with a grim expression. "I am counting on all three of you to work on that. Arthur, your task is to make them understand that we mean business. Albus, I want you to start right away with finding a substitute currency, and you Amelia, I want your troops and the Aurors to make plans for an all out assault."

They were stuck mute by the Minister's forceful words. Arthur looked ready to stand up and leave, Dumbledore had a severe and disapproving expression, and Bones' face was closed and hard. Shrummer considered them shrewdly and continued more softly.

"I am aware that you disapprove these orders, and that you are probably thinking of refusing, even at the cost of resigning. Am I wrong?"

"No Minister," said Bones in a hard voice. "On that count you are not wrong at all."

Shrummer didn't show any sign of annoyance at the insubordination. He sat up and leaned toward them, his two arms stretched out, palms flat on his desk in an attitude of domination.

"Well I have news for you then," he said. "I do not care a wit for what you think, because I am going to give you the best arguments for doing my binding."

He turned toward Arthur.

"If the Goblins do not listen to you, or if you will not speak to them, then I will not waste time searching for a replacement. There will be no Goblin Liaison Office and we will apply plan B."

He addressed Dumbledore.

"You are plan B, Albus. Make the Goblins irrelevant to us. If you cannot find a solution then I will have no other options but to call in the troops."

He turned to Bones.

"That is plan C, and that is you Amelia. I you do not want to handle it, then I will sack you and replace you with someone who will have a lot less scruples in applying the necessary force."

He surveyed them with a determined and pitiless expression.

"I hope you realize that it will be much better for each of you, if the others do their job properly. Drag your feet and you will probably fail, and then I apply plan D. My plan: An all out assault with the gloves off, and I will raze Gringotts to the ground."

"This is little more than blackmail, sir," said Dumbledore coldly.

He was desperately trying to find a counter to the man's demands, but all the plans he could think of required time, and that was the one thing that they didn't have.

"It is not blackmail for me, Albus," retorted Shrummer. "I mean what I say. You worry about loss of lives and hurt feelings. I deem order to be the most important value, because I know that ultimately, it will save more lives than appeasement." His face was inflexible. "And I will have order."

An uneasy silence followed. They could call his bluff, if it was one, but it looked more and more that the man had all the aces in his hand. Arthur already knew that he would give in. It was impossible for him to resign in such circumstances, and leave the others to shoulder the terrible responsibility alone. He simply couldn't live with himself. Shrummer looked at his watch.

"Time is of the essence. I am giving you until this afternoon to make your decision." He looked back at them. "That will be all, gentlemages."

Bones stood up first and walked out of the office without giving the Minister any word or sign of courtesy. Arthur followed shortly after. Dumbledore stood up last and stared for a moment at the other wizard. Shrummer looked back with no trace of apprehension or doubts. The Headmaster briefly considered putting on the same show that he had enacted for Hermione, but he didn't dare. He had already taken one too many hasty decisions, and the results had not been good. He knew that he was tired, raked by guilt, and altogether too much rattled for gambling that way again. They had lost this battle, and it was time to pay for their errors. If anything, he was sorrier for Arthur who had done nothing wrong, and who would probably pay the highest price. It was unfair, but Dumbledore had lived long enough to know that life was like that sometimes.

_The least I can do is try to shoulder part of his load._

Shrummer saw the defeat in the old wizard's eyes and smiled inwardly. This meeting had gone well. He controlled them all. Even the famed Albus Dumbledore would be obeying his orders. He sat back in his chair and looked on as the old mage stood and left the room. The former Ministers were staring at the scene in silent stupefaction. When the door closed, Shrummer allowed himself a cold smile of triumph. He had another meeting to attend, but not here, and afterwards it would be time for lunch. What would he like to eat? He felt like indulging himself today, and he patted his large belly.

_Why not some seafood? Yes, the largest plate of the finest the Warlock's Club has to offer, with some of that superb Muscadet they keep. Yes, definitely so!_

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Severus Snape entered the infirmary at a brisk pace. Silena had been sent by Madam Pomfrey to ask him to assist her in dealing with Alicia Parker's injuries. The little girl had been running to keep up with him, her face a mask of grief and worry for her friend.

_It used to be that only Potter provoked these catastrophes, and now the others are doing it as well. Merlin help us all if this is a new trend!_

He was initially determined to consider the case objectively. They were all equal, and he didn't want to feel more obligated to some than to others, not even Helen Parker's children. His resolution faltered a little, when he saw Harry and Richard waiting at the door of the room where Madam Pomfrey was operating.

"Good morning, professor," Harry said.

"You'll be able to help her, won't you?" asked Richard with a broken voice. "Please, sir. Tell me that you can heal her."

Severus would normally have shot back a sharp reply to such a plea from one of his students. A Slytherin was supposed to be strong, especially in such circumstances. Death and injury happened, and they should be taken as the hard lessons of life that they were. It was the first thought that came to his mind, but it was overridden by his last image of Helen, and by the remembrance of the _Prophet's_ story this morning. He still felt gravely insulted by her attitude, but he accepted that the Parker family had received more that its fair share of hard lessons for the moment. Ruthless words would be all too much like hexing an ambulance.

So he said nothing and went inside the room. Harry placed his arm over the boy's shoulder and pulled him close. Silena reached out timidly and took Richard's hand.

"They're the best you know," said Harry. "Professor Snape and Madam Pomfrey. They saved my life many times. If somebody can heal Alicia, then they can."

Harry felt the boy tremble and kicked himself for the clumsy words. He realized what the unspoken thought was. _What if nobody can save her?_

Severus arrived in front of Alicia's bed. The girl's bloody clothing had been removed and lay in a heap on the floor. She was till unconscious, and her skin was very pale. The wound on her side was still bleeding and her breathing was raspy and labored. Every time and them she coughed with a spasm, spitting foamy blood from her mouth. Madam Pomfrey hovered over her.

"What is it Poppy?" he asked.

She explained the accident and what had been done up till now.

"At first, I thought that it would be all right, but it looks like there is a great deal of internal bleeding, and the stake has sliced the lung. She's in shock and I'm losing her Severus."

- - -

_Somewhere,_

Once again the seven figures materialized along the stone circumference. This time the excitement and tension of victory were palpable among them. Shrummer and Electra gave their reports on the latest developments, and even Thelas felt some of his doubts abate. Everything was going according to plan, something which hadn't happened in a long time.

"Do you believe that they will agree?" asked Dragonis of Shrummer, when he'd described the morning's meeting.

"They will give in, all of them," replied the wizard. "Well maybe not Bones, but she is the least important one."

"The really essential element is that the Hogwarts Headmaster be occupied with a deep and almost insoluble problem," added Boocrat.

"And of course you will assist him?" asked Electra with a smile.

"Of course," replied the scholar. "It will be very enlightening to see what he comes up with, and when the time will be right, then I will give him the correct answer," he gave a wry smile, "well _our_ correct answer."

He chuckled dryly and his mirth was taken up by the others, until the entire room echoed with the triumphant laughter of the seven wizards and witches.


	25. Chapter 24 On the brink

_Follow up from the previous chapter's event. Alicia is gravely wounded and Snape is called in to save her. Arthur visits Gringotts again. Friends talk. Some things will go well, others will remain as they are, or worse._

* * *

**_Part III : Battlefields_**

**_Chapter 24 – On the brink_**

_Hogwarts, infirmary_

Severus knew what the problem was. Wizard's bodies healed much faster than Muggle, but this ability developed with age, although it could be quickened by being brought up in a magical family. For example, Silena would probably fare much better in Alicia's place because of this, despite being one year younger.

"We need to accelerate blood replacement," he said. "A potion would help but it wouldn't be fast enough. A transfusion is therefore necessary. What is her blood group?"

"It's O- with K-type Manabolites," replied Pomfrey with a grimace.

"Damn!"

Manabolites were a special substance found in the blood of all living creatures, but they only affected magical ones. Like with the normal blood factors, there were a number of compatibility issues when transfusing wizards. K-types were rare, and this meant that it would be difficult to find a compatible donor. Since it was strongly hereditary, the best bet would be to use a family member.

"Severus, we could use her brother, it-"

He shook his head and interrupted her. He was objective enough to realize that there was only one solution.

"No. The boy is too young. She has lost a lot, and he cannot give her enough. We need to bring her mother here. I know where she lives."

Madam Pomfrey shot him a surprised look which he ignored. This was no time for propriety or hesitation. A life was at stake. If the worse happened, he would be fatalist, but in the meanwhile he would do as much as he could.

"You must hold her at least half an hour." He looked at her and saw the hesitation on her face. "All right, start a transfusion with her brother, and put him on regenerative potion. This will give us the time we need."

She nodded grimly. They both came out to explain the situation to Richard who swallowed in apprehension, but of course he accepted the procedure.

"Mister Potter, give me your broom please," asked Severus, extending his hand. Harry complied and started to offer his help, but the man cut him short. "Only one person is needed for this, Mister Potter, and it would take too long to explain to you how to find Mrs. Parker. You can save me some time by arranging for the chest of medical potions in my quarters to be brought here."

Harry didn't insist. He understood the urgency and that this was a time for obeying orders. He took out his wand and blew out one of the windows of the infirmary. Severus rolled his eyes in disgust, but he accepted that it saved time. He straddled the broom and took off a full speed.

"Come on young man," said Madam Pomfrey to a white faced Richard. "This won't hurt too much, and your sister needs it."

Richard followed her, with Harry and Silena automatically following. The nurse didn't protest. It wouldn't be a bad thing to give the boy some moral support.

Severus flew quickly to the limits of the school wards and touched down at the first possible emplacement. His face showed a furious expression. The last thing he wanted was to see Helen Parker again. For an instant, he regretted not having taken Harry's offer.

_A student is in danger, nothing else matters._

Shaking his head angrily, he Disapparated to the inside of Helen's apartment. At that time, she was just coming out the kitchen, carrying a fully laden brunch platter. When she saw him materialize in her living room, holding a racing broom in his hand, she gave a violent start and dropped the whole thing on the floor.

"Severus!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

His face was serious and grim. Niceties could wait, and they weren't his forte anyway.

"Your daughter needs you Helen," he said briskly. "There has been an accident at school. She is badly hurt and requires a transfusion."

Helen's eyes went wide with alarm at his succinct description.

"I will take you to the school," continued Severus coldly. "Time is of the essence, so please get dressed now."

He had never spoken to her like that, and even after what had happened, it was something that bothered him. An impassionate part of him observed how she took the news. He had to admit that, after the initial shock, she handled herself admirably. She didn't burst into tears, or worry about the mess on the floor, or ask useless questions which could wait.

"How do we get there?" she asked.

"There is a public floo terminal not too far from here. With luck I will be able to convince the warden to let you use it. We will materialize into Hogsmeade, and from there, fly to the castle." He marked a slight hesitation. "You only need to take some warm clothing with you," he added, all the while telling himself that he shouldn't have to.

_No unnecessary sentiments._

She nodded and took a sweater and her coat, and then she opened a drawer, and fished out the amulet which Bones had given her. Severus immediately recognized what it was. His curiosity was aroused, but there was no time to lose. He reduced Harry's broom to a size that he could hide under his cloak, and transfigured his clothes so as not to shock too many Muggles. Pants, boots and a black leather raincoat were discrete enough.

They walked quickly down the lift and exited the building. There was about five hundred meters to walk. During that time Helen couldn't bring herself to ask any questions. She could sense the urgency from Severus' demeanor, and she would know soon enough in any case. He didn't feel like talking either. After walking a few blocks, they entered a small nondescript pawnshop filled with dozens of showcases of old and useless looking trivia. In the back, the owner looked at them with vacant eyes until Severus showed him his wand. The man's expression transformed into something noticeably more intelligent. He looked inquiringly at Helen who produced her amulet. The owner gestured for them to go through a door on the wall. Helen could have sworn that it didn't exist when they'd first entered the store, but she didn't give it more thoughts.

Behind the door was a room with a large fireplace. A box full of floo powder was on the mantle. Severus took a fistful and turned toward Helen.

"We will go together. Walk inside, hold my side and close your eyes."

She did so, feeling him tense at her contact. He fixed his gaze to the front.

"The Three Broomsticks," he called out, while throwing the powder to the floor. A big flame gushed from the ground to engulf them...

... and then they were ejected from the Inn's own fireplace. Severus had enough practice to stay on his feet but Helen stumbled and lost her balance. He had let her go as soon as possible, and she was thrown against one of the tables. He felt a sudden pang of guilt.

"Are you all right?" he said automatically.

"_Cough!_ Yes._ Cough!_" she said, standing up and favoring her hip. They were both covered in soot, but it showed mostly on her blonde hair. She had swallowed some, and Severus realized that he also hadn't warned her to keep her mouth shut. He stormed angrily out of the inn, damming Ethan Parker and all those that he considered responsible for this situation.

She followed and once outside she found him astride the broom and ready to fly off.

"Mount behind me," he ordered.

Thankfully she was wearing pants. The broom handle seemed overly thin to be anything but atrociously uncomfortable. He didn't seem to mind, but she wondered if she should seat herself on the sweeping end. He frowned impatiently at her hesitation.

"Sit right behind me. There is a cushion spell which will support you, even if you cannot see it."

She did as she was told, holding on to the only way she could, by wrapping her hands around his waist. Once again she sensed his discomfort. They flew off and she gasped at the sensation of flying over the forest while seated on such a flimsy vehicle. After the initial shock of it, she found it extremely exhilarating, almost to the point of forgetting about why she was here. Hogwarts was visible a couple of kilometers away, glorious with the majestic towers and the lighted windows.

Five minutes later they arrived at the castle. Helen shrieked as Severus pointed them straight at the walls. The window opening had not been closed and he took them smartly in. They disembarked and Helen suddenly remembered that her daughter was near death and that she would see her in few seconds. Instinctively she took Severus' hand and squeezed it. He reacted with initial annoyance and tried to free himself, but a look at her face stopped him.

"Now you can tell me," she said, her face pale. "How is she?"

Severus' expression softened a little. Despite himself he changed the grip on her hand to a gentle touch. He described the accident and the diagnostic. Helen's face showed horror.

"She should heal fully in time," he said. "The problem is getting her through the next hours. We will need to transfuse her with your blood. We have already used Richard's but that cannot last." He stopped and spoke more gently. "Do not be shocked at what you will see. She is alive, and now we have a good chance of saving her. That is all that you need to think about."

She looked back, bit her lip and nodded nervously. He led her through the door to the room where Alicia and the others were waiting. Helen took in the frightening scene. Richard lying on a bed next to his sister. Red stained clothes all over the place. A long cherry colored tube coming out of his arm into a silver machine, with another tube going into Alicia. Harry and Silena standing next to their friend. A large matron like witch checking on the wounded girl. She went right to her daughter's side, her hands caressed her face.

"All right," said the nurse. "We'll switch over now."

Helen started to roll her sleeve. It was awkward with the winter clothes, but Severus used a spell to conjure away the fabric on her arm. They worked quickly and Helen was soon in Richard's place. Severus busied himself with brewing an advanced cicatrisation potion. He asked Harry to assist him, giving terse instructions in a brisk whisper. They worked quickly. All the needed ingredients had already been brought in. The mix was poured into the silver transfusion machine. He brewed another restorative for Richard and for Helen. When everything was done, they settled down to wait.

None of them said anything and the only noise in the room was the soft thumping sound of the pump and the girl's rasping breath. Half an hour later, Madam Pomfrey saw that Alicia's medical signs were picking up. It wasn't over yet, but it was a good omen. She exchanged a discrete glance with Severus, but they didn't say anything to the others, for fear of raising their hopes too soon. The girl could still die of any number of complications, and that would be even more devastating.

Another half hour passed and the positive signs were more evident. Even Alicia's skin color had returned to a merely sicken paleness, from the deathly white it was before.

"She's going to make it," said the nurse. Helen looked at her with eyes full of hope. She turned toward Severus who nodded and relaxed his expression into a soft smile. Helen felt the tears coming and she didn't fight them.

"Thank you!" she gasped in gratitude. "Thanks God and thank you."

Richard was crying too, pressing himself against his mother. Severus felt an acute need to leave the room. Not that there was any chance of him shedding tears, but he might still show inappropriate emotions and that wouldn't do.

"Out!" said Madam Pomfrey. Severus didn't wait and left immediately. "The emergency is over, so out with you, except for Mrs. Parker. We will keep the transfusion on for a little while, at a reduced rate. Mister Parker, how are you feeling?"

"Er, fine Ma'm." The nurse looked at him, clearly considering whether or not to keep him in a patient's bed until the next morning. "Really fine. I'm not dizzy or anything," he insisted.

"Hummphr. All right, but you go and rest in your rooms. I want someone to bring some food, and no play or exercise of any kind. I want you to eat a full meal tonight and drink a lot. Is that clear?"

"Right clear Ma'm. Er, will I be able to see my Mom before she leaves?"

"Yes. Now go away before I change my mind."

Harry led them out, and then the two women were alone with Alicia.

"How do you feel Mrs. Parker?" asked Madam Pomfrey. "Light headed? Any cramps? Nausea?"

"No, no. It's all right, just a little tired."

"You've got a good constitution, but you should rest for a few days after giving so much blood. Can you take leave from your work?"

"Yes. I guess I could," said Helen.

"Then do so. We will arrange a more comfortable mean of transport than brooms or floo powder to get you back. I expect that Severus will see to that."

Helen said nothing. She looked at her daughter and tried to think about something else than the man who had saved her life.

- - -

_Diagon Alley,_

Arthur Weasley Apparated next to the Gringotts building, inside the special security area that the Aurors had erected around the bank. A glimmering magical shield blocked the street. On the other side of the field, he could see the crowd of angry wizards and witches, clamoring to regain access to their savings, and protesting the breakdown of practically all commerce in Diagon Alley. Some were holding signs: 'GIVE ME MY GALLEONS BACK', 'CAPITALIST ARE THIEVES', 'MY CHILDREN STARVE WHILE YOU COUNT, and others where throwing stones or hexes at the barrier.

Arthur ignored them. There was a similar crowd near the access to the Ministry of Magic. These were just the simple people. None of them had the power to break the defense shield put up by the Aurors. The really powerful wizards who could were staying home. They had more money inside the bank, but they could afford to wait. However, it was clear that if Shrummer gave the order to storm the place, he wouldn't lack volunteers for shock troops. Some of these people were desperate.

Mad Eye Moody and another Auror escorted him as he walked toward the gates. In the past few days, Gringotts had transformed into a fortress. All windows were closed shut with big steel plates. More armor had been bolted on every likely surface, and he could see Goblin crews setting up a pillbox near the entrance. There were protected by guards sporting big and deadly crossbows.

He sighed and walked up to one who appeared to be the leader of the detachment. He was wearing a heavy bronze and leather cuirass, and there was a large curved sword at his belt. He eyed the wizard suspiciously.

"What do you want human?" he spat.

Arthur was tired and worried, but very determined. Dumbledore had offered to accompany him, but he had refused. He knew that he was less gifted than the Headmaster for playing the complex dance of Goblin diplomacy, but he sensed that the time for such play was over, and if the Goblins didn't realize it, then he would tell them frankly. Seeing that, Dumbledore had given him one simple advice.

_"Do not try to be polite then. With Goblins, it is all niceties, or raw power. There is no in-between."_

"I want to speak to Goblin Gauldbag. Now," said Arthur firmly. The Goblin shook his head.

"He is-"

"I SAID NOW!" barked Arthur. He bent down toward the smaller creature and whispered murderously. "If I don't get to see him in a minute, then the next wizard to come here will hex you so deep into the ground that you'll need one of those vault chariots to come up!"

The Goblin looked at his face and decided that the human meant business, or that at the very least the decision should be taken by his superior. He gave a sign and there was a long grinding sound of metal structures rubbing painfully over each other. Presently, the door opened and the Goblin gestured for them to go inside.

"Nice speech Arthur," murmured Moody in his ear. "I couldn't have said it better myself."

Arthur smiled grimly and went in. It felt very good to lash out at someone, and he had a lot grief and frustration to unload that way. He suddenly felt more confident. He was going to follow Dumbledore's advice to the full. Certainly it looked like it was working. As they got inside, the guards stopped them again. They refused to let the Aurors come in with their wands. Moody was beginning to bristle since they wouldn't be very useful without weapons. Arthur followed an impulse and indicated to the old Auror that he would go in alone.

He stepped inside the bank, with armed Goblins on either side of him. They were carrying vicious looking weapons and grinning cruelly at him, but he didn't feel any fear. It was not his natural courage showing itself. That one would have had him set his teeth grimly and hold the fear at bay with a sense of duty and sacrifice. No, in this moment Arthur was truly unafraid. It was as if he had gone beyond the normal perception of danger. He was normally a prudent man, but there had been so many events beyond his control in the past days, that prudence now seemed to be the least rational attitude. Part of it was fatigue drunkenness, but was truly convinced that there were only two choices available to him. He could either cower like a broken animal and ultimately fail, or ride it out with panache.

So he marched like a king into the great lobby of the bank, where dozens of armed warriors were setting up more weapons. He was walking so fast that the smaller Goblins guards escorting him had to trot in order to keep up. They looked at his face, and since they couldn't understand why he wasn't afraid, they became hesitant in his place. It was as if there were fixed quantities of courage and fear in the room, and the more brazing Arthur was, the more timid the Goblins became. When they reached the other side of the big space, one the guards was running in front, opening the doors and cringing as he gestured for the wizard to follow him.

He was finally led into a room where Gauldbag and other officials were examining some papers, standing around a large table. The bank director looked up and saw a different Arthur Weasley than the one he was used to. He too was taken aback, but it took more than bravado to impress him. Actually that which bothered him the most was the cowed attitude of the Goblin guards. What he was seeing didn't make any sense after the reports he had gotten concerning the Wizengamot meeting. The man had been defeated and humiliated. Gauldbag had expected to never see him again, and here he was, stomping like a conqueror.

Arthur stopped a few steps away from the table and crossed his arms. He looked straight at the Goblin leader and ignored the rest. Gauldbag made a quick decision and barked a short order. The other Goblins started to exit the room. Some were hesitating, but he repeated the command in a biting voice. Presently they were alone.

"Goblin Gauldbag, we have to talk," said Arthur. They were in the same room where they had talked three days ago. The symbols of war were still on the wall.

"I hear you" replied the Goblin. He wondered if he could break the man's assurance with anger. "Is the Ministry ready to accept our demands? The situation can still be mended."

"I am not here to negotiate," replied Arthur unfazed. "It is actually too late, or too soon for that. I am here to tell you that your intransigence has caused your worse enemy to gain power."

"All wizards are our enemy!" retorted Gauldbag. He checked himself as he belatedly realized that it was him who was becoming angry.

Arthur shook his head and explained Lord Shrummer's new policy. He didn't believe there was any advantage in keeping it a secret. The only chance they had to avoid war was to make both sides realize the dangers it carried.

"This is madness!" replied Gauldbag. He was shaken that the situation had degraded so quickly. He had expected to be able to use the trading ban to secure a few privileges, and then restore things to normal.

"Of course it is," said Arthur, almost cheerfully. "What do you call it when reason fails?" He walked calmly toward the Goblin. "I tried to be reasonable. Albus Dumbledore tried to be reasonable." He opened his hands. "You rejected this, preferring to threaten us with ruin. Shrummer rejected it, for his own motives." He shrugged as if it was a minor point. "Other people didn't want to be reasonable, and now Shrummer is Minister of Magic, and he is ready to make a bigger threat than yours."

Arthur turned around and gestured toward the paintings of burning cities.

"So this is what you will get. War, carnage, desolation." He turned around and now anger showed on his face. "It happened before, and we will return to reason when all the mad people will be gone."

"Arthur!" said Gauldbag in alarm. He was appalled at the man's words. If Shrummer or some other hothead politician had said it, then he would have ignored it. But this was Arthur Weasley, a man who had always tried to do the sensible thing. Briefly, he wondered if the traitorous action of his daughter had unbalanced him. Certainly it must have been terrible. In a Goblin family she would have been killed, or forced to commit suicide.

_And where is Albus? Why is he not here? Has he gone mad as well?_

He imagined the ancient wizard laughing crazily and putting his formidable intellect to the task of making Galleons and Sickles which wouldn't own anything to his people, _to his bank!_ If that happened, not only would the Goblins pay a terrible price, but he personally would lose everything. It was unthinkable.

"Arthur, we must stop this! We must stop it now," he said in near panic.

Arthur looked back and said nothing. Gauldbag pulled himself together. He walked around to table toward the wizard, and made soothing gestures with his hands.

"I have my own mad Goblins to hold at bay," he said fretfully. "You must understand that. The Minister must understand that. But we can work something out. I can lift the ban, but not totally."

He thought furiously. If he backed off completely, then Shrummer would apply his own reasoning to the situation and take undo advantage of their decision. He saw that Arthur was listening attentively. At least it was a sign of rationality. Gauldbag began to regain hope.

"We can lift the ban, but we will keep a ceiling on the value of transactions," he proposed. "Something like under a hundred Galleons a week. It will show our good faith and disarm the crisis. Then we can search for a way to restore the relationship between our species." He looked anxiously at the wizard.

Arthur pondered the offer. It made a lot of sense. Few wizards had more than a few dozen Galleons in their vaults, and the ones who had more than that would not be those doing the fighting. Shrummer would not be able to enforce the decision to go to war in such conditions. It would work.

"That is reasonable," he said.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Outside the infirmary, Harry, Richard and Silena found Luna and Hermione waiting for them. Luna looked miserable.

"We heard about the accident," said Hermione. "How's Alicia?"

"She'll be okay," said Harry tiredly. He looked at Luna with a pained expression, and then gave Richard and Silena a pointed nod. They understood and went away toward the Slytherin dungeons.

"Is it true what they say?" asked Luna, in a shrill voice. "Did Ron do this? He says not, and he's not lying!" she added almost hysterically. "He says you all lied to frame him!"

She shook her head in despair. Harry reached out toward her but she grabbed his hand and held it in her own.

"I'm terribly sorry Luna," he said very gently. "But it's all true. It was like he was obsessed with pushing the kids ever harder." He shrugged helplessly. "I guess that he doesn't even appreciate what he's done."

In addition to touching him, Luna had been staring at his face while he spoke. He knew she was using her truth sense on him, and he didn't try to block it. She realized it, because she suddenly broke into tears. Hermione and Harry made her sit on a bench. They took position on both sides of her, and watched on helplessly as the girl shook with sobs.

"I was talking with Draco..." she said between sniffs. "He's furious, and he says that none of that trouble at the Ministry would have happened if you hadn't sold FOM to Bones." She felt Hermione temper rise. "No, I don't want to debate about it!" she said violently. She stood up from the bench and turned around to stare at them. "I hate what's happening! We were friends, and it was a beautiful thing, and now we're tearing at each other, and it's awful. You've all gone crazy! Can't you see that?"

They looked at her painfully. They could understand how terrible it could be for Luna, who was the one the most attuned to their emotions, to feel how badly things had broken out with their group.

But there was nothing that they could do about it. Harry and Hermione couldn't get away from the fact that Draco and Ginny had taken side with what they saw as evil and dangerous forces. Ron couldn't be shaken from his certitude that Harry had lied to accuse him of a terrible deed. It was really too much for them to handle.

Luna shook her head one last time and ran away. Harry felt crushed by her pain, especially because if one of them was really innocent of any hidden agenda, then it was Luna. It was all the more unfair for her. He didn't know what was happening. Maybe it was just bad luck and random events coming down on all of them. He closed his fists and almost trembled with frustration.

"Mione," he said desperately. "What's going on? Have we gone crazy? She's got a point. I can't believe that we could have drifted so far apart in so little time."

She stared back and said nothing. She could sense some basic rightness in his argument, but when she looked objectively at the situation, she couldn't find the flaw in her reasoning. He continued.

"She can't be wrong, Mione." He gestured toward the direction where Luna had gone. "She's got some strange ideas sometimes, but she's never been wrong about people. She can't be wrong damn it,_ she's an Empath!_" he added, hitting the bench with his fist.

Hermione couldn't help pointing out the flaw in his reasoning.

"If an Empath is never wrong, then why does she say that Ron did not do what you say him doing?" she asked.

Harry was struck mute by her implacable logic. He bowed his head in defeat, as he realized that she was right as usual. This was really a nightmare.

"Why then?" he whimpered. "Why is this happening?"

Hermione didn't know what to say.

"I don't know Harry," she said finally. "I think we just have to wait and search for the answer. Maybe there's something else that we've missed."

She stood up.

"But I'm afraid that it's not over yet. Come. I don't want to talk about it here."

- - -

Severus had anticipated Madam Pomfrey's suggestion and contacted the Ministry. He needed a portkey for Helen and those were normally a Ministry monopoly, a few wizards could create one, but it was illegal, and he wasn't the Headmaster. However, he knew just the man to ask for the favor.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt," he asked into the flames of his fireplace.

"Hello there, Severus," replied the Auror. "How are you doing, man?" he asked of his former partner. They had both been active members of the Order of The Phoenix in the war against Voldemort, and that kind of bond could not be forgotten.

"I am well, thank you. Sorry to disturb you, but I need a portkey for a Muggle." He explained the events which had led to having brought Helen at the school.

"Helen Parker you say?" replied the Auror with a nod. "No problem. I know her. She's been given a Permanent, and I've actually make a few portkeys for her."

Severus frowned. The Permanent Access was the amulet he'd seen Helen use a few hours ago. He was relieved that she had gotten it officially, but there were still a few unanswered questions.

"Why did she need portkeys for?" he asked.

"Bones wanted to meet her. I called at her workplace on Monday and brought her to the Ministry. I didn't know why at the time, but of course now it's all out in the open." Kingsley shook his head sadly. "It was really a shame what happened, but politics is a dirty business you know."

"What did Bones want with her?" asked Severus. He could sense that he was on the brink of learning something important.

"From what I gathered, she needed someone who could represent that association the kids had thought up, you know Fraternity whatever, the thing she based her candidacy on. And it had to be someone without any ties to the school, because your Headmaster was against it, for some reason that I don't understand actually." A light suddenly clicked in Severus' mind.

_Merlin! What a mix up._

"Pretty long shot it was, if you ask me," continued Kingsley. "But I understand that for Mrs. Parker, the price of her cooperation was the Permanent Access. Hey! By the way, I saw that book you wrote, in her flat."

Severus had to take a moment to switch mental gears and understand what the man was talking about.

"I found it strange," the Auror went on. "The page with your dedication had been torn and then smoothed over and replaced. I wondered about that. Cute little mystery, you know. Care to tell me about it?"

Severus looked at the man for a moment.

"An accident," he said curtly.

"Ah." Kingsley looked disappointed. He shrugged. "Well, whatever. You said you wanted a portkey?"

"Yes please. For her home."

"No problem, gimme a second." Kingsley's face disappeared from the flames and when he came back a few seconds later, his hand was holding a strand of colored rope, wrapped in a piece of parchment. "Here you are."

"Thank you very much, Kingsley," said Severus. "If I can do anything for you in return, please do not hesitate to ask."

"No trouble. Give my regards to the lady."

"I will. Goodbye, Kingsley."

"Bye, Severus."

Severus placed the portkey in an envelop and reflected quietly on what he had learned. He had made a serious mistake with Helen. His pride had made him react very unfairly with her. It was unusual for Severus Snape to feel ashamed at something he had done, but he was deeply ashamed now.

_She didn't hurt me. I hurt myself._

He also realized that he had been unjust with the Headmaster, but somehow that bothered him a lot less. He turned decisively away from the fireplace and went out of his office.

- - -

"Draco, we have to talk," said Ginny, pulling him into a quiet spot.

They had spent most of the day with the other students, as many as would hear them out, pleading for their version of what had happened, and shoring up the case of the new Minister. The results were mixed. Some accepted their story, mostly among Slytherins and Ravenclaws. A few were even avid supporters of the new order, but a strong minority resented violently what had been done. In Hufflepuff, those formed a clear majority. One thing that grated badly with several people was the fact that Ginny had, unwittingly or not, taken position against her father. Family and blood loyalty was a big thing among wizards.

Since they had never imagined Arthur Weasley would be involved in the Wizengamot confrontation, Ginny hadn't fully grasped how the _Prophet_ story sounded to independent witnesses. After the second student had refused to even talk to her, she'd realized it very well.

And then there was Draco's own position. He was clearly the front man on this, and at least the most vocal, but it was also clear that he had lost a great deal of the standing which had come from his association with Harry and his friends. It was now evident that there was a split among the Six Founders, and that in turn reduced the aura they once commanded. To get some legitimacy back, Draco needed to have Ginny at his side. Of course, he didn't want to distant himself from her in any case, but their couple was taking on some aspect of a union of the damned.

"What is it?" he said nervously.

Both of them had been on edge all day. It was their turn to use the Bubble tonight, and it would be a much needed relief for him. Ginny's face was set in a hard expression which had become more and more pronounced as the day went on.

"I want to make something very clear," she said. "I-"

"Wait a minute," he interrupted. "Can't this wait for tonight?" He was tired and it was bad enough arguing with all these people. He didn't want to do it with her as well now. All he wanted was to take her in his arms and forget about this mess for a while.

"No," she said. "Tonight we'll make love. We'll be at peace. I don't want to ruin it with an argument. So we have the argument now. All right?"

He nodded. He was glad that she was a tough one, like him. She wouldn't break and neither would he. They would weather this together.

"Okay," she said. "Here goes. I followed you on this." He started to protest and she stopped him. "Let me speak. I accept the general principles of Trevor and Shrummer's plans. We talked about it and we agreed that Dumbledore played a very strange game." She paused and he twisted his mouth in discomfort. He knew what was coming.

"But I don't like _how_ it's been done," she continued. "My father was humiliated, and I hate that. A lot of people, including Harry and Hermione, think I'm shit, and I hate that. My mother's probably crying her head off, and really hate that!"

She stared at him and he grimaced in sympathy. He felt that way too, but maybe less intensely.

"So the next time we do something, we do it for us, and for the people we've hurt. Trevor and Shrummer got their prize, and they owe us now. They owe us _big!_"

Draco frowned and stared back with annoyance.

"Come on, you know it's not that easy," he said. "This isn't a game Gin. It's politics, and we can't do all that we want. We need to be together on this."

Anger flashed in her eyes and her face hardened even more.

"You don't understand do you?" she snapped. "Of course I'm with you. We made a pledge remember? Well if it wasn't for that, I'd be back home right now, on my knees begging my father's forgiveness, and telling him everything that happened. It could still happen if I'm pushed too far, so don't push me."

Alarm showed on his face. He hadn't realized how badly she was taking this.

"So we'll argue our cause," she continued, calming down a little, "and defend ourselves, but we don't hurt our friends anymore. We'll try to convince _them_, but we won't attack them." Her eyes were burning with resolve. "I want you to swear that you'll follow _me_ on this. I said I would be loyal to you, and you said the same, but need to win back our friends."

He waited to be sure that she was finished, and then he answered her.

"I'm with you on this Ginny. Like you I hate what I saw in Harry's eyes this morning. I hope that this will smooth over in time, and I agree that there will have to be some payback. Tell you what. We could write a letter to Trevor, and ask to see him and Shrummer, at Hogsmeade or elsewhere and talk about this. We can do it tonight."

Her face was calmer now. She'd said her piece, and it had been accepted. It made her feel much better.

"No, not tonight. Tonight is for us. We'll do it tomorrow."

- - -

"Come in," said Helen at the knock on her door.

The door opened and Severus came in.

"Hello, Helen," he said.

She took notice that his voice was different from the one he had in the afternoon. It was much softer, like when they had dined together. She wondered why that was.

"How is your daughter?" he asked.

Alicia was still sleeping in a bed next to Helen's. Her breathing was regular and her face peaceful once more. Helen's hand was lying next to her arm. She smiled at the child's face and touched her softly.

"She's much better. The nurse, or doctor I don't know exactly, said that she would be fully recovered in a few days. The wound is already closed. It's really amazing." She turned toward him. "Thank you for what you did Severus. She told me that it was your decision that saved her."

"It was also her skill, your blood and Richard's, and Harry's quick action," he said gruffly. "I only did my part."

"Nonetheless, I am very grateful." She gave him a beautiful smile. The same one which had moved him so much before.

"and I wanted to apologize -"

"I wanted to apologize -"

They practically said the same thing together. It made Helen laugh, and caused Severus to be somewhat embarrassed. He reacted first because she was still a little drowsy after the transfusion and the restorative potions.

"I wanted to apologize for my reaction the other day, Helen," he said. "I misunderstood what you meant, and I only realized the truth a few minutes ago, when I talked with someone from the Ministry."

"It's all right, Severus. It was going to say that it was my fault. I was clumsy. I would never insult you thus."

"I was stupid enough to forget that," said Severus. "Please forgive me."

"Of course I forgive you, and if your offer still stands, I would be honored to accept it. There are no reasons for me not to be _involved_ with the school anymore, and I have the freedom of movement that I wanted."

"Consider it done. I am happy for what Bones gave you. I hope you are not too sad about the fate of your project for the association?"

"Honestly, I didn't care for it as much as she did, or Hermione. I imagine that she is very sad."

Severus made a face. Hermione Granger was something else. He'd followed the theatrics from afar, wondering what action to take. After some thinking, he had finally decided to let the Headmaster assume his responsibilities. He would do nothing.

"Stark raving mad is more like it," he said, "or rather not. She may be burning mad inside, but on the outside, she is a block of ice."

"That sounds like a dangerous mix," said Helen with a twinkle of amusement. Severus smiled as well. What was happening with the students, or the Ministry, didn't seem very important from his present perspective. A life had been saved, and a friendship restored. That was what counted most.

"I can escort you back whenever you wish it," he said, showing her Kingsley's portkey.

"Well then I guess we can do that now." She gazed longingly at Alicia, and then bent down to kiss her.

"I will make sure that she is well," said Severus.

"Yes, I know you will."

Helen finally tore herself free from her daughter. They used the portkey to get back to her flat. The messed up tea service and food was still on the floor. Severus took out his wand.

"_Reparo! Scourgify!_"

And the broken teapot and cups were whole once again, and the carpet was clean.

"It's amazing how you can repair things," said Helen admiringly. She thought about Alicia's accelerated healing, and then her eyes fell on the monograph, with the torn page still showing out a little. Severus followed her gaze and reached for it. He could how carefully she had tried to undo the damage. He gestured once again with his wand.

"_Reparo!_" he murmured, and the book was whole once again. He gave it to her and he couldn't help being moved again when she took it against her chest and crossed her arms around it, looking at him with a bright and happy face. It was all he could do not to take her in his arms.

_We can repair things all right. Magic is good for that. Such a shame that we do not have anything to repair souls._

- - -

Dinner was over and Draco and Ginny were finally free of the unpleasant mood which had surrounded them all day. They were both nervously exhausted, especially Ginny. At least at the Slytherin table, Draco had the comfort of some friendly company, while most of the Gryffindor still ostracized her, and the few who didn't were the ones she admired the least. She endured it. She knew how the game was played. She would have to take her lumps and suffer before gaining back some sympathy.

They moved along the deserted corridors, up to the second floor when the private room was hidden under the _Fidelus_ spell. They arrived in the area and silently spoke the secret words which would reveal the bubble. Nothing happened. The shimmering sphere was not there. Draco spoke the words aloud.

"The Marauder's Resting Home is located right inside the second recess from the south wall of the west corridor, on the second floor of Hogwarts main building," he intoned.

But still nothing appeared. They exchanged a look of horror. Only the Secret Keeper could have done that, either destroying the Bubble, or removing them from the list of those allowed to use it.

And the Secret Keeper was Hermione.

"Bloody bitch!" raged Draco. "She threw us out."

Ginny's face was white with shock. This was the final blow. The last throw that she could take on this terrible day. Hermione hated them enough so that she had taken the time and trouble to cast the complicated spell to do this. The Bubble could have been a kind of neutral ground, the last remain of what they had shared together, and now what she was saying was that there would be no neutral ground. They where enemies. She and Draco were cut off. She was exiled from her friends, her family. She started to shake.

"Look Gin," said Draco. "We can find another place. We-"

She didn't let him finished. She didn't want another place. She turned and ran. She ran all the way to Gryffindor Tower, and to her dormitory, breathless with exertion and sobs. She threw herself on her bed and closed the drapes. Shutting out the world and the hatred which was in it, only keeping the pain which was inside her.


	26. Chapter 25 Pureblood laws

_Hogwarts is anything but serene as students take different sides concerning recent events. In London__, resistance is being organized. The sense of humor of a certain Slytherin is tested and found wanting. Luna makes an attempt at healing._

* * *

**_Chapter 25 - Pureblood laws_**

_Hogwarts,_

The next days went by in an execrable atmosphere of permanent tension and antagonism among the students. The main reasons were the economic and political situation in London, but the sparking event had been the spectacular falling out between the six. It had started off a number of arguments, as more and more of them took position for one side or another. By itself it shouldn't have lasted longer than a few days, and it was one reason why the professors didn't stamp down firmly at first.

Unfortunately, news of the outside world intervened to complicate matters and prolong the dissentions. First it had been the news that the Goblins were lifting their ban, or at least part of it. Everyone rejoiced in that, and for a time it looked like the Shrummer administration was doing the right thing. Draco immediately took the opportunity to argue once again for the soundness of his and Ginny's decision.

Ginny was relieved to learn that her father had been the one to broker the deal. She and Ron had reached out to each other in reaction to their exclusion by the other Gryffindors. Ron had always been protective of his sister, and she didn't want to know what exactly had happened on the Quidditch pitch. They were often together, especially at mealtimes. There were tears of pride in their eyes when they read the _Prophet's_ description of how Arthur Weasley had walked alone into the Goblin stronghold, to come out with the proclamation that the ban was lifted. He had been carried in triumph by the population of Diagon Alley, all the way back to the Ministry. Everyone was praising him. Despite this, Gryffindor courage or not, neither of them had been able to work up the nerve to write to their parents. They had gone to Percy instead, knowing that if anybody could understand their position, it would be he.

Percy had written back several letters, explaining that he sympathized with them, but that the rest of the family was still under the shock. Molly had not even sent them a Howler, and that was a very bad sign, since a berating would have signaled the beginning of forgiveness. What Percy wasn't telling Ron and Ginny was that their mother was extremely worked up against Draco, and that she wanted Ginny to break up with him. Even Arthur thought that this was excessive. What Fred and George wanted to do was not publishable.

The Quidditch captaincy had been given to Kirke, and the prefect position to Harry. He had refused vehemently at first but McGonagall had been very firm, and even Hermione had argued that it was a good thing for him. She was thinking of their seventh years, and she wanted Harry to have every chance to be Head Boy with her. Ron was furious, and he took this as a confirmation of a cabal against him. He resigned from the team and his animosity against Harry grew to an obsessive loathing. Their friends had to watch out permanently to prevent contact between them. Harry tried to ignore this stoically, but he was badly upset nonetheless. Neville was now his closest remaining male friend, but it was not really the same thing.

Luna was trying to rebuild some bridges. She managed to make Alicia accept Ron's apology for the accident. She didn't remember much in any case. Ron was evidently sincere and he offered to coach her in Quidditch practice along with Richard and Silena. It gave him a chance to play without being on the team. He gave her his best and Alicia promptly forgot any grudge toward him, but she still felt torn between him and Ginny on one side, and Hermione and Harry on the other.

Hermione had been arguing for her own ideas and Bones'. She couldn't easily exploit the events with the Goblins, although she did point out that Arthur had been a candidate _against_ Shrummer. Nevertheless, sympathy for her cause was falling as everybody believed that the crisis was now over, and that the current administration didn't look to be worse than Fudge's. She and some of her supporters spoke of the danger of dictatorships, but few listened.

Ironically, she got her first break when the Ministry announced a series of laws restricting who could apply for official employment. What caused the furor was that for the first time, wizarding ancestry would be taken into account. The law's actual effect was minor. All it said was that only those with both parents, and at least two grand parents, who were wizards, could hold a post equivalent to a head of department. It didn't really affect a lot of people, and in practice it would have never changed anything, but it sounded ominously like a first step.

This revived tensions throughout the school, even among the staff, and also in the global community of wizards. It caused Hermione to coin the term 'Pureblood laws' which she denounced in a fiery letter she posted to the _Daily Prophet._ She was technically in defiance of the Headmaster's orders, but at that point, she felt that it didn't matter anymore. The letter was published in the same issue where an editorial, signed by Amelia Bones and Arthur Weasley, defended the principles of equality among wizards. Percy had wanted to sign on as well, but Arthur had dissuaded him. The next day, the _Prophet_ announced that both officials had been asked to resign by the Minister of Magic. It caused Ron to accuse Hermione of sowing trouble, to which she replied that they were now seeing the true face of the new Minister.

- - -

_Gringotts,_

Gauldbag was seriously worried. He had hoped that conceding the partial lift of the trading ban would have been the start of a gradual unlocking of the conflict, but he had been wrong. The Ministry had not attacked them, but they had given no indication of being ready to resume true negotiations. At first he had thought that Arthur had been playing him for a fool, but then the _Prophet's_ editorial, and his sacking by the Minister, had made things clearer. There was still a power struggle among the wizards. He didn't know if that was a bad or a good thing, but it was a complication.

Certainly, official contact was broken between the two communities. Arthur Weasley had not been replaced. Law Enforcement had been taken over by a wizard who, his spies told him, was a lackey of Shrummer. It would have been frightening, if he hadn't also gotten reports that moral among the elite Auror forces was dropping fast. The reason being that the two dismissed officials had been very well liked over there. This, combined with the lack of popular support for a costly battle, meant that there was little risk of Gringotts being attacked in the short term.

The long term was something else. He was wondering what to do, when a Goblin knocked and came in his office, holding a piece of parchment in his hand.

"A night bird brought this, Director," he said.

Gauldbag looked at it.

_The Ministry won't talk, but we can, at the Dragon's Nest, 9 P.M tonight. Bring no more than one. Arthur Weasley will be with me._

_Amelia Bones _

The Dragon's Nest was a shabby tavern in Knockturn Alley. The area could be considered a no man's land between magical species territories. It was under no one's authority, except the locals, some of whom were outright criminals, while most others simply wanted to be left alone.

Gauldbag grunted in appreciation. The place was such a mess of wards and other protection spells, that Apparation or magical spying was impossible. It was rumored that there were even some locations where portkeys didn't work reliably. He would be safe there and so would they, from each other and from the Ministry.

He sent for Graskut. He had already decided to accept the invitation. Now he would have to prepare what they would discuss. It might well be his last chance to regain the initiative.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

It started as an innocent prank. Judging the gloomy mood of the Slytherin common room to be beyond the acceptable, Richard and Silena decided to lighten things up, using another suggestion from the _Marauders' Guide_. They had cut off a caricature of Lord Shrummer's portly frame from the _Quibbler_, enlarged it, drawn a similar one of Draco, and charmed the second to follow the first around the main table. It was actually very funny. The big wizard would move a few inches, the smaller Draco would wait a little, realize its master was not next to it, and then run on miniature legs to catch up while squeaking 'wait for me' in a high pitched voice.

Most students laughed heartily at the joke, particularly Crabbe and Goyle, but Draco didn't find it amusing at all. Humor wasn't his forte these days, especially with Ginny only accepting to be near him when necessary, and sulking in her quarters the rest of the time. He hadn't kissed her in days and the stress, and the abrupt lack of regular intimacy, was making him irritable and impatient. He tiredly pointed his wand to cast a _Finite Incantatum_,but the spell had no effect other than to make both figures squat and fart loudly. Most of the room redoubled in mirth. He frowned at the grotesque display and then caught his sister's eye.

"Silena, get rid of that!"

"I can't," she said. "I only did the drawing."

Draco turned around to search for Richard. It was no mystery who else could be in on this. The boy's dark hair could be seen showing from behind one of the big chairs.

"Richard! Stop this stupid thing." said Draco.

"Why?" replied Richard. "Don't you like it?"

Draco stood up and walked menacingly toward the boy. He tried to grab him, but Richard jumped nimbly under the table and emerged on the other side, laughing in delight. Draco was too dignified to follow his move, and going around the obstacle would only result in a futile merry go round.

"Richard. I said to stop it!"

"Okay."

The boy took out his wand, but instead of dissipating the animation, he cast an enlargement charm on it. Now, the figure of the Minister was almost a meter tall and the rest of the table roared in laughter.

"Oops!" he said. "I think I made a mistake."

"You sure did," said Draco with clenched teeth. "No more magic for you. Give me that wand!"

"No!" retorted Richard. "It's mine, and you don't have any right to do that!"

"Then I'll take your stupid bowler hat talisman then!" said Draco. "_Accio -_"

Richard ducked in alarm behind Vincent Crabbe, and he grabbed the miniature hat instinctively. Crabbe's eyes opened in fright at seeing Draco's wand pointed at him. He tried to move clumsily out of the way, falling backward and upsetting the table badly. Richard was running toward the safety of the boys' dormitory, when Draco took aim with his wand. The hat had automatically blown up to normal size in his hand, and he instinctively used it as a shield.

"_Impedimenta!_" yelled Draco.

A ray of light struck the hat squarely and it suddenly glowed white and enlarged even more, deflecting smartly the force of the spell with the characteristic sound of a ricocheting bullet. Richard panicked completely, and thought that Draco was attacking him with a deadly spell. He didn't stop to think and used the first hex he knew in response.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

"_Protego!_"

Draco parried the hex smartly, but this time the spell glanced off his magical shield, to hit the overhead crystal candelabra which exploded in a thousand pieces, including a dozen lighted candles. One of them rolled under a chair and set fire to some silk strands. Another one did the same to a wall drape. Students rushed to stop the flames, and everything was very confused for a few moments. Then a door opened brutally, and the stern figure of professor Snape surveyed the room. Everyone was either crouched in protection, getting up from the floor or busy putting out fires, except Richard who was still standing stupefied in the center of the room, with his wand in his hand. The air was thick with smoke, there were debris everywhere, and there didn't seem to be much doubt as to who was responsible for the disaster.

"Mister Parker, in my office now," said Snape in an icy voice.

No one moved for a second. Richard threw a vague look at Draco who didn't say anything. No one else, not even Silena was taking his defense. That sort of thing was not done in Slytherin House. The guilty party would denounce itself, or it would not.

"I said, now," repeated Snape.

Richard shook himself and passed in front of the professor toward his private quarters and office space. He was numb with apprehension. Snape gave the room a last disgusted glance and closed the door behind them.

Richard marched mechanically up to the potion master's desk. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the white shape of the discipline stick and felt despair. Snape passed him by, took the stick and stood next to the boy.

"Mister Parker, I feel compelled to ask. Do you have a valid explanation for the disgraceful mess I have just witnessed?" he hissed.

"No, sir," replied Richard.

He knew that the operative word was _valid,_ and there was nothing that he could say in that respect. He felt his legs begin to tremble, and he only hoped that whatever was going to happen would be over with quickly.

"I remember explaining to you, not so long ago, the principles of Slytherin discipline, Mister Parker. Perhaps I was not clear enough?"

"You we- were very cl- clear, sir!" stammered Richard.

Severus could see that the boy was terrified. Young Muggle borns didn't have the same relationship to pain that came from intimate contact with magic. It was harder for them to accept the fact that the two things were frequently associated.

_Well, that is what education is for, Severus._

He applied a short burst of Legimency to make sure. He was skilled enough not to need the incantation against such a young target. It gave him a sufficient grasp of what had effectively happened.

_Damn it Draco! What is happening with you?_

The situation with these kids was approaching a point when he would have to do something about it. In contrast, the case before him was trivial beyond words.

"I think a precision is needed," he said. He advanced his foot to a mark on the floor. "Stand there and place your hands on the desk."

Richard tried to think of something else while he obeyed. Doing what he was told resulted in him bending over the desk, his rear end sticking out clearly. He heard a swish and a line of fire exploded across his buttocks. He clenched his teeth and stayed silent for the first blow, but he couldn't help a yelp on the second, which was mercifully the last.

"Stand up."

He did so, shaking with reaction. He made an effort to look the professor in the eye. His own were bright with yet unshed tears. Snape didn't feel any remorse. He had not struck the boy very hard, and he was a firm believer in enforced discipline.

"That will be all, Mister Parker."

There was no loss of points, nor any indication of detention. The crime had been private, and the punishment would be so as well. Richard nodded quickly and moved out of the room. His bum was smarting furiously, and all he wanted was to reach the comfort of his room. Once he got to the common room he started running without looking at anyone.

Draco watched him pass by with an embarrassed grimace. He felt guilty of having let the youth be punished for what, at the very least, was a shared responsibility. He took his wand and prepared to repair the broken candelabra, it would take much more than one _Reparo_ to do it, when his sight crossed Silena's. She was shaking with rage.

"Are you happy with what you did?" she hissed. "He didn't deserve that! You and your friends, all you do is cause pain to others."

"Silena-"

"Don't talk to me. I hate you!"

He tried to hold her, to say that he was sorry for Richard, but that the boy had played his part too. She stepped back and spit at him. He wasn't so far gone as to hurt his own sister, so he let her go immediately, and she ran off toward the dormitories.

Draco wiped the stuff from his face and looked around him. The rest of the room was studiously going on with their business as if nothing had happened. No one was looking at him. Crimson with embarrassment, he continued working on the broken fixture, and when that was done, he went to his private room and slammed the door shut.

- - -

In the sleeping quarters, Silena walked carefully with the beaker of precious liquid. She came up to the door of the room Richard shared with the other first years, and knocked twice.

"It's me, Silena. Can I come in?"

"What do you want?" came the muffled reply.

"Let me in."

A few seconds passed and then a tired 'Okay' came back. He sounded as if he didn't really care. She came in. He was lying on his side on his bed, curled up with his knees against his chest. He saw the recipient she was carrying and the towel on her arm.

"What is it?"

"Essence of Murtlap," she replied. "It'll make the pain go away."

She soaked part of the towel with it and indicated where he should place it.

"Turn around," he growled.

She rolled her eyes but complied. He raised his robes and gingerly placed the wet cloth against the injured body part and let out a sigh of pleasure as the burning sensation disappeared.

"Is it working?" she asked.

"Yeah! Er, thanks."

She turned back and smiled at him.

"Don't mention it. I had my share of beatings. In the Malfoy family, that's one of the first potion we learn to make."

"That's barbaric," he said with disgust.

She shrugged and placed the beaker on his bed table, and then she sat on the bed.

"Still, it was a good prank," she said, grinning. "I can't wait to tell Moony about it."

He looked dubious at first, and then he recalled Draco's furious face. He grinned too. _Yeah, it was a good one._ He suddenly realized something else.

"Hey! We found out what the hat's magical property was. It's got a permanent shield charm on it. That's just too cool!"

"You bet."

"I hate it that they fight with each other like that." He sighed. "They get all grumpy and nothing's funny with them. I hope it doesn't last much longer."

She shrugged again and played with the bed covers, twisting them absently. She didn't really understand why their older friends hadn't made up yet. Having a fight was normal. Making it last so long was not. But they were almost grown ups. She supposed that things must be different for them.

They stayed silent for a moment, and then he felt some feeling return to his backside. He moved a little and winced.

"Er..." he said, gesturing toward the beaker. He needed to renew the compress.

Silena stood up. She knew he would prefer to be alone when he did that. It was stupid. She could help him do it much more efficiently.

"I'll be going," she said. "See you at dinner."

"Right, and thanks again."

- - -

Draco was still in his room, trying to make some progress on his Transfiguration essay, when someone knocked on the door.

"Yes?"

The door opened and Millicent Bulstrode came in. He grimaced and laid down his quill.

"Draco, I think we ought to talk," she said.

He moved his chair impatiently and rectified a fold of his robe. Impatience showed on his face. He could guess what she wanted to talk about, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

"I know," he said with annoyance. "I know that I overreacted with that bloody kid ..."

The desk was facing the wall. Instead of sitting on the bed, she leaned on the doorframe to watch him better.

"It's not just that. You worry me. For years you were a stupid git like the other boys, and then six month ago, you came back another man. I doubted it at first, but you pulled the whole House into shape. You showed us how to act like Slytherins should. Everybody was proud. You were our leader, and we would have followed you anywhere. And now today, you can't even handle a first year making a joke."

She looked at him with attention. His face had closed up immediately when she started talking, but she was looking for deeper signs. She had learned a few Legimency tricks herself.

"You've got problems, that's clear, and it's not just that political crap. You're not defending the Ministry, you're defending yourself and Ginny. And don't tell me a Weasley will ever buy the stuff Shrummer is selling. Is that the problem? That you and Ginny disagree, but that you don't want to break up? I'm not even sure that's the full story."

He avoided looking back. He didn't want to discuss these things with her. They'd never been close, and he wasn't one to confide easily. It was hard enough to do it with a friend like Harry. _Former friend, Draco. I think you can safely forget about talking it out with Harry._

"Leave me alone," he finally said, with a cold voice. "Like you said, they're my problems and I'll handle them."

"Well you better," she shot back, "because if you keep going like this, some of us are not going to look up to you anymore." She moved away from the wall and put her hand on the door knob. "And when that happens, it only goes one way. You have been warned."

Draco ignored her. He turned back toward his work and heard the door close. Of course she was right. He had to pull himself together. He knew it, but he couldn't do it alone. He realized that now. He had never been better, more alive and more powerful, than when he had been part of Harry's group. Even if Ginny came out of her funk, it would not be the same. Maybe together with Luna and Ron, they might be able to rebuild something, but he doubted it.

- - -

_Dragon's nest, Knockturn Alley,_

Amelia Bones was sipping a small glass of fuming liquid when Arthur Weasley came in.

"Good evening, Amelia."

"Same to you, Arthur." She replaced the glass on the table, and gestured for him to take a seat. "How are you doing?"

They hadn't seen each other since being convoked by Shrummer. He had raged at them like a madman that day, calling their conduct criminally disloyal, telling them that they were sapping the very authority of the Ministry, and doing it at a time of quasi war. It had gone on for almost an hour.

Amelia had been ready for it, but she'd been surprised at how Arthur had reacted, or rather not reacted. She knew he wasn't used to this and she had expected him to blow his stack, or at least to justify himself passionately. He had done neither, calmly waiting for the storm to pass. When Shrummer had asked for their resignation, both had signed without hesitation.

"I've been resting, and that was good. Repairing stuff around the house, that kind of things." He shrugged. "What about you?"

"I have been thinking." She looked at him shrewdly. "You don't seem surprised by my invitation. Were you expecting it?"

"I knew it wouldn't stop there, but our Goblin friends should be here soon. Tell me quickly. What are you planning? Rebellion?"

She shook her head and recovered her glass.

"Resistance."

He nodded. It was what he had expected. It was the obvious thing to do for her, and FOM provided the perfect justification for going against the establishment. A moral stand that would have nothing to do with resentment over a lost election.

"Why me?"

She took a sip of drink, and a discrete smile softened her normally solemn face.

"I believe that you have some experience in that domain," she said quietly.

"Oh."

The existence of the Order of the Phoenix had been kept secret, but of course Amelia's department had people skilled in espionage. She probably also knew that Kingsley had been working for Dumbledore, and of course, the fact that he, and other loyal people, were still in the Ministry's employ, could be used for good effect.

Arthur wondered how candid he should be with her. Their eyes locked and he saw the passion and determination in hers.

"We had the Headmaster," he said in the same quiet voice. "And we had Harry and his friends. What do we have this time?"

She noted the use of the plural. He was with her, and that alone was worth much. She was getting ready to reply when Gauldbag and his assistant arrived. They exchanged greetings and in a short while they were all seated around the table. A waiter came for their drinks. The Goblins were brought some dark red liquid and several bottles of spice and herbs which they added and mixed. Arthur knew that the drink was called a Bloody Hag, and he suspected that it wasn't made with tomato juice. He ordered some Firewhiskey and said nothing.

"Thank you for coming," said Bones, "First of all, I hope you understand that we distance ourselves from the Ministry. We wanted to do things honorably but it was not possible."

"I know that, witch Bones," said Gauldbag. He looked at her and then at Arthur. "There is no quarrel between us. I propose that we pledge to be truthful with each other. Some things must be kept secret, but we will do that with silence, not with lies."

He placed his hand, palm up on the table, waiting for them to do the same. Arthur glanced at Bones, acknowledging her as the leader. She hesitated for a fraction of an instant and then placed her hand as well. Arthur and Graskut did the same. A soft glow rose from their skin, diffused over the wooden surface, and gradually disappeared. As long as they were seated at that table, they could speak no lies.

"Good," said Gauldbag. "I am listening."

"Shrummer wants a showdown with you," she said. "I have no proof, and I do not know why, but everything points to that. He also has some _unhealthy_ plans for our community. Arthur and I plan to resist him."

The Goblin digested this. He didn't look surprised.

"What is the position of wizard Dumbledore?" he asked. Both Arthur and Bones looked unsure.

"We do not know. He is working in the Department of Mysteries, and you know very well what Shrummer wants him to do."

"Why does he help the Minister?" asked Gauldbag.

Bones' face was closed. She didn't feel the need to defend the man who had thwarted her plans. She expected nothing from the Headmaster. It was Arthur who answered.

"It seems that Shrummer has convinced him that it is the only alternative to war," he said. He saw the disbelief on the three faces. "He will not take any chances of that happening, and I believe that he feels guilt over what happened," he added to Bones.

He didn't know what else to say. Guessing at the intentions of the Headmaster was a difficult task. The man rarely acted directly, and he was often prepared to forego an immediate solution in favor of a complex long term plan. He tried to explain some of that to his interlocutors, but he could see that they were far from convinced.

"We cannot count upon him to help us," summarized Gauldbag. "And therefore, he must be stopped from helping our enemies," he added. Graskut nodded vigorously.

"Do you think he can succeed?" asked Arthur. He was curious at the answer he would get.

"I will not answer that question," said Gauldbag with a hint of warning in his voice.

Both Goblins stared at him with hard faces, their small pointed teeth gleaming in the tavern light. The conversation was touching at the core of the Goblin power. The word secret did not even begin to cover how sensible such information was. Bones intervened quickly to affirm that they didn't want the Headmaster to break the power of Gringotts. Arthur assured them as of that as well.

"Your action will only delay the Ministry," continued Gauldbag, addressing Bones. "And Shrummer now has the support of those six young ones you call the Founders. We are fortunate that they are still confined to the school, but surely you know that public sentiment will follow them against you." He saw Arthur wince, and he knew why. After all, two of them were his children.

"They are not together in this," corrected Bones, shaking her head. "Granger and Potter have split from the group, and Hermione Granger was the true inspiration for our candidacy platform." She had received detailed reports from her niece.

"Then why did you not ask her to assist you in the Wizengamot?" asked Gauldbag with surprise. "It would have been her word against a written note."

"I could not. The Headmaster has forbidden her to help me."

Even Arthur was surprised and puzzled at the affirmation. Pressed for details, Bones explained about the letter she had received. The Goblins listened attentively. One could almost hear the wheels turning in their minds. Gauldbag was becoming more and more convinced that Albus Dumbledore was the source of most of their problems. It was a sobering thought, because no enemy could be more dangerous.

"There were some rumors about him having manipulated Fudge," added Bones absently. "The way all this started was incredible enough, not to mention the killing of Umbridge."

"We didn't do that," said Gauldbag immediately. "A human did."

Arthur had been thinking about the Headmaster, and he hadn't paid full attention to the conversation.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"We have heard the rumor attributing her death to our people," said Graskut. "And we did our own investigation. I followed it closely myself. No Goblin could be proven guilty and we found a witness who testified that two humans carried her body in the alley on Friday morning. The witness says one human cut a lock of hair and cast a spell on the body before leaving."

"What kind of spell?" asked Bones.

The Goblin produced a note with some misspelled Latin words. Both Arthur and Bones examined it.

"It could be a form of aging charm," said Bones. "It would explain why the report said that the time of death was _before_ the publication of the law." She looked up. "This could change everything. There was no pollyjuice and it was really her."

"But it doesn't explain everything," objected Arthur. "It only means that she was used to try and frame the Goblins, but we didn't advertise the circumstances of her death. Only a few people knew of it."

"Yes," added Bones. "Rita Skeeters knew, but we stopped her from publishing it. She had enough to write about as it was," she added with disgust.

"We will think about that information ourselves," said Gauldbag. "In the meantime, I am worried about what wizard Dumbledore is doing."

"I will not condone any action against Albus Dumbledore," said Arthur firmly. "And I will not help you against him."

"Arthur," said Bones in a calming voice. "There is no reason that it should come to that, but the man may be unbalanced or manipulated by Shrummer, or someone else."

"I defy anyone to manipulate Dumbledore mentally!" he said with force.

"Then maybe there is something else, blackmail perhaps, but you have to admit that he is acting very strangely."

"Wizard Weasley," said Gauldbag. "Let us not talk of action here, but please consider. The most powerful of wizards is spending day and night on an assignment which is aimed at ruining the Goblin power structure. The least we should be allowed to know is what progress he is making."

Arthur hesitated. He wanted to ask the Goblin to assure him that no measures would be taken against his friend, but he knew that this could not be given. He looked at Bones who looked inclined to access to the Goblins' demands. He nodded to her.

"We will try to do that," she said. "For the moment, all that I can say is that he spends a lot of time with one of the Unspeakables of the Ministry. A wizard named Alan Boocrat."

Gauldbag nodded his thanks, and Graskut took on a pensive expression. That name meant something to him. He would have to check what he had on the human when they returned.

There was not much more to say so they separated shortly afterwards. Arthur thought that it wasn't very conclusive, but then again it was only their first meeting.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

At that same time Harry and Hermione were in Hagrid's hut, finishing the brewing of a special potion project, when the perimeter alarm warned them that someone was coming close. It had happened before, but each time the potential visitor had passed the house by without trying to look or get inside.

Hermione immediately moved the cauldron under the table and cleared the fumes with a quick spell. Harry closed the books shut and stored them into a nondescript cloth sac. They were often doing that kind of work these days. Hermione had been researching a number of spells, charms and potions which she felt might be useful to them, in case things went from bad to worse. Harry thought that she was been paranoid, but it gave them something to do together, and some of her ideas were actually intelligence tools which followed the spirit of the Weasley twins' Extensible Ears.

They put out the lights and waited in dark silence for the intruder to go away. That didn't happen, instead there was a firm knock on the door.

"Harry, Hermione. I know you're in there. It's Luna."

They looked at each other. Harry made a face and Hermione shrugged, then with a wave of her wand, she restored the lights and unlocked the door. Luna Lovegood, wrapped in an enormous cream colored fur coat, entered and closed it against the chilly exterior.

"Er, Hi," said Harry.

"How did you know we were there?" said Hermione frowning.

"Come on, it wasn't difficult to guess. You disappear every evening and you're never in the Bubble or in the Room of Requirement. I asked Dobby a few questions. He did his best to hide the fact that were not hiding somewhere in the school, but he couldn't fool me." She shivered. "It's freezing in here. Can't you build a fire or anything?"

Hermione looked up to check that the drapes they had placed over the windows would be enough to hide the light, and then she conjured a small fire in the central hearth.

"Who else knows?" she asked. "Ron I suppose?"

"I haven't told anybody," replied Luna calmly.

"Why?" asked Harry. He thought he knew the answer, but he wanted her to say it for Hermione to hear.

"Because I want you to trust me."

She looked back at Harry with her big silvery eyes. Her expression was serious but calm. He was glad to see her. Maybe it would lead to something positive. Hermione still looked dubious and on her guard, even though she knew that Luna would never act against them.

"We're listening Luna," said Harry gently.

"All right. I don't know what we can salvage of the situation but I aim to try, and maybe we can tone down the hatred a little."

She paused and looked into the flames. Hermione did the same.

"I don't even want to think about the issues, you'll have to solve that yourselves, but Ginny's a wreck and Draco, well he's holding out but he's going to snap one of these days." She turned toward Hermione. "That was a cheap shot that you took by the way. You two have this place, and Ron and I can still get together, but Ginny really freaked out when she realized what you did."

"What are you talking about?" asked Harry. He looked at Hermione who wouldn't meet his gaze.

"You didn't know?" asked Luna. She looked at Hermione. "I think you should tell him."

"What did you do, Mione?" asked Harry.

"I, hum, I took them off the _Fidelus_ charm," Hermione confessed in a small voice.

Harry considered her for a moment. He said nothing because he knew from first hand experience how badly Hermione had taken the termination of FOM, first by the Headmaster, and then at the Wizengamot election. He also knew that she sometimes showed a vicious streak. Marietta and Rita Skeeters could testify of that. The saying that hell had no fury like a woman's scorn fitted perfectly with her.

"I talked with Draco this evening," continued Luna. "He didn't ask for anything, but he was desperate for some company. He didn't even tell me about the Bubble. I got it by deduction and by listening to Ginny."

She paused again and continued to watch the flames.

"I think you should know that they don't want to hurt you. They regret that you were, but not what they did. They really believe that they are doing the right thing." She looked up toward Harry. "I think Draco misses you terribly Harry."

"What about Ron?" he replied.

Luna lowered her head and bit her lips.

"I- I can't say the same about Ron," she stammered. "You know the answer. I love you both. Don't make me think about it."

She closed her eyes and froze. He reached out to touch her arm, and he could sense her pain in his mind. He tried to soothe it, has she done for him before. Maybe if he concentrated on happy thoughts, she could read them from his mind and it would help. It was not unlike Occlumency training and it seemed to work. He felt her relaxing.

_I Love you Luna. I miss Ron too._

_I know you do. Please don't give up. Tell me you'll never give up._

_I won't._

They stayed silent for a moment. Hermione took out a piece of paper and scribbled a phrase on it. When Harry released Luna, she gave it to her. It was the keyword for the Bubble. Draco and Ginny had only to read it to get back access to the place.

"Thanks," said Luna, wiping her eyes. "Thanks a lot."

"You're welcome," replied Hermione.

Her voice didn't carry a lot of warmth, and Luna knew that she still hadn't forgiven her former friends, but she had taken a first step toward that, and that was important. She looked at the folded note and hesitated. It would be so much better if Harry or Hermione gave it to them, but she could sense that it would be premature to ask for that.

"How are you two doing?" she asked instead. Her eyes went from one to the other. She immediately sensed the deceptive thoughts lurking in their minds, and the blocks coming up against any prying. "I don't care about your secrets!" she added with passion. "Don't you understand? It's what you are that's important, not what you do, or what others see you doing."

"We're all right Luna," said Harry gently. "It's not the same as before, but we've got each other, and we're all right."

"Good!" she said. She stood up, pulled her coat around herself. "Good," she repeated. "I know we'll be together again one day. I don't know when or how, but it will happen." She looked at Harry. "You'll do it Harry. You did it once and you'll do it again. I trust you." He gave her an uneasy smile, but the words warmed his heart. She went to the door and blew them a kiss. They watched her leave into the darkness.

"Thank you, Mione," said Harry.

She turned against him and lowered her head against his shoulder.

"It was petty, I know," she tried to explain. "But I was so angry, and-"

"It's all right," he shushed her and pulled her in closer against him.

They stayed together a moment. Harry thought about Ron, sadness filling his mind, alternating with flashes of anger at the unfairness of his reaction. Hermione reviewed some of the things Luna said.

_... It's what you are that's important, not what you do, or what others see you doing..._

Something in those words made them stay in her mind. She was tired, and she didn't want to analyze it in depth, but she made a mental note to think about it later.

- - -

Luna returned to the main school building, and she wondered about a way to get the note to Ginny and Draco. It could wait until morning of course, but she also didn't want to be the obvious messenger. An inspiration came to her, and she found a perfect solution to that problem. Changing directions, she headed straight for the kitchens. The Elves were still working to clean up after the last meal. She spotted Dobby who saw her as well and rushed toward her.

"Missy Luna. Dobby is pleased to meet you. Is Missy Luna hungry? We still have cake or fruit and-"

"Thank you Dobby. I'm not hungry, but I have a favor to ask of you."

"Dobby is glad to be of service for Missy Luna. What must Dobby do?"

She explained what she wanted and the Elf immediately frowned. He might be funny looking and funny talking, but he was intelligent enough to understand what had happened. Luna pointed out that Hermione had written the note, and she let him think that Harry was too busy to ask the favor himself. The Elf finally relented, took the note and disappeared with a snap of his fingers.

Ginny was sleeping and she sat up with a frightened start upon feeling the unusual weight on her bed covers. She almost let out a squeal when she saw two big luminous eyes in the darkness.

"_Lumos!_ Dobby! What are you doing here?"

"Missy Hermione says Missy Ginny is to read this," he said briskly, thrusting the folded paper in her hand. The Elf made a grimace and added. "When Missy Ginny has read, then Dobby will bring this to the young master."

Guessing at what it had to be, Ginny unfolded the piece of paper. As she read the text, her heart lifted. She knew that she was once again part of the _Fidelus_ spell. Before she could even say a word, the Elf had taken the paper from her hand and disappeared. She was still unfocused in the aftermath of sleep, but she remembered the rest of his words. Quickly, she got up and started to dress.

- - -

Draco was lying on his bed, still dressed and thinking sullen thoughts, when the Elf materialized in the middle of the room. He looked up in surprise. Dobby barely gave him a glance, and his expression was anything but friendly. He placed something on the table and immediately disappeared. Intrigued, Draco stood up and saw that it was a folded sheet of paper. He opened it, and his eyes opened wide at what was written.

At first, his suspicious mind wondered if he was the victim of another cruel joke. He dismissed the thought as paranoid. Conceivably, Dobby could have written this himself, but Draco didn't think the Elf could have imitated Hermione's handwriting so well. Whatever this was, he couldn't afford not to check it out, and then, if it was what it seemed, he would find a way to wake Ginny up, even if it meant flying over to her window on a broom.

A few minutes later, he was in the proper place. He replayed the words in his mind, and this time it showed him what he hoped for. He voiced a silent and sincere word of thanks to Hermione. He was getting ready to go back and search for Ginny, when another thought came to his mind. Dobby hadn't said anything, but it was possible that ...

He opened the door and looked inside, and he knew he had guessed right. Ginny was standing there and looking back at him with bright eyes.

He stepped in and closed the door.


	27. Chapter 26 Hogwarts' circle

_Events are now moving fast. What happens in the outside world will complicate further what is going on at Hogwarts, and near it. Harry and Hermione make a breakthrough._

* * *

**_Chapter 26 – Hogwarts' Circle_**

_Hogwarts,_

The next day brought both good and bad news. The good news happened when Ginny and Hermione crossed each other in the girls' bathroom.

"Hermione?"

The older girl turned to see Ginny who had already finished dressing. She had evidently been waiting for her to come in. For the past days, they had adjusted their daily routines to avoid being together.

"Thanks," said Ginny simply.

Hermione twisted her mouth in a uneasy smile and acknowledged the peace offering. She wasn't really prepared to forgive and forget, but Luna had been right to point out that her response had been excessive. She and Ginny had gone through a lot together, what she had done had been both cruel and unworthy.

"You look better," she said. It was true. There were still some tired lines on her face, but the bloodshot eyes were almost gone, and the eyelids less puffed. Then suddenly a wicked twinkle was in Hermione's eye, and her half smile became a knowing one.

"Had a good night?" she added.

Ginny blushed, looked back defensively and then chuckled and nodded. The shared complicity warmed the ice a little. She struggled to find something to say. Instinct told her that it would be a mistake to bring up the subject which was at the core of their quarrel. Hermione and Draco's position looked to be irreconcilable, and she was losing hope of ever bridging that gap. But maybe something else could be done.

"Hermione." She walked a little closer, unsure of herself and keeping her eyes a little downcast.

"Yes?"

"When it's just the two of us, or with Harry, could we just," she shrugged, "forget about politics and all the bad stuff, and just be with each other?" She looked up. "I miss that," she whispered.

Hermione thought that she missed it too. She understood that Ginny would never abandon Draco, but that she wasn't as passionate as he was about the issues. What she proposed was reasonable.

"Yeah. I guess we could," she answered gently. Ginny smiled and made half of a gesture toward the other girl. She was still hesitating, but Hermione replied with a similar clumsy move. It was ridiculous and they both realized it with a grin of embarrassment, and then Hermione pulled Ginny into a hug.

Pavarti's head came out of the shower stall and caught the scene. She quickly pulled back in so as not to disturb them, but privately she was overjoyed, and she had to bite her knuckles to keep herself from yelping in relief. She couldn't wait for the chance to pass on the gossip.

- - -

The bad news came with the day's issue of the _Daily Prophet_. It announced new restrictions concerning mixed blood wizards, notably adjusting the legal age according to the degree of magical ascendancy. A wizard or witch with no magical parents would therefore be required to pass a specific 'magical culture examination' and would have to wait until 19 to be a legal adult. It would be 18 for a mixed blood.

There were other minor, and vexing, restrictions, but this one caused Hermione to stand up with rage. Adding insult to injury was the fact that the Ministry claimed this was inspired by Amelia Bones' platform, and that it represented a show of good faith toward her supporters. It was a brazen distortion of truth. Hermione has conceived of the need for a special education for Muggle borns, but it was to be matched with a similar one for purebloods, and there was never anything said about the legal age.

Her eyes crossed Ginny's over at the Slytherin table and from the fire in them, it was clear that she was regretting her previous sympathy. She turned her back and started to walk away. When an alarmed Ginny read the information in her turn, she showed as much, if not more fury. She left the hall on Hermione's steps and soon after, angry shouts could be heard in the corridors. It didn't last long. Less than a minute later, Ginny came back in and walked menacingly toward Draco with a murderous look on her face. He barely managed to pull her into an empty classroom so that they could scream at each other behind closed doors, instead of out in the open among the rest of the students.

"This is the last outrage that I'm taking from your friends," she hissed. He tried to speak but she cut him off. "No! You shut up and listen. They're not my friends if they ever were. They're yours and I-"

Draco reached out to touch her and try to get her to calm down, but she slapped his hand away. He scowled and started to react with anger, but he suddenly found himself facing her pointed wand. Genuinely worried, he raised his hands and stepped back. He had never seen her so incensed. She looked mad enough to do anything.

"I said stop! Make one move and I'll hex you. I've had enough of this. Do you understand?" She took a deep breath and stared him straight in the eye. "It's over Draco. I've taken all I could, and it's not worth it. I'm out. Now."

He looked back at her in alarm.

"Ginny..." He shook his head and tried to get a grip on the situation. He felt locked up into a nightmare. "Please. You know that I don't approve everything that they do. I-"

"But you support them. That's just as bad. Get over there!" With her wand she motioned for him to move away from the door, making them turn around each other, so that she would be nearer to the exit.

He obeyed without believing it was really happening. Ginny, his Ginny, was holding him away at wand point, mere hours after he'd thought that things were at last beginning to settle down.

"Some of their decisions are good. Ginny, for Merlin's sake! Put that thing down! I swear I'm not going to hurt you."

"You already did," she snapped. "I was finally getting back on speaking terms with Hermione when-"

"I didn't do that!"

"Your friends did. It's the same thing for me."

"Ginny, give me a chance to work that out. I'll speak with Trevor, with-"

She barked a laugh.

"You think that they'll listen to you? You flatter yourself. They used us, and now that we did the dirty work, they don't have any further need for us. You'll just be told to be a good little boy." Her voice was full of scorn. Every utterance was like a slap in his face and he winced.

"Damn it Ginny! Give me a chance!"

She considered him with hard eyes. Now that she had let out the greatest part of her anger, she was able to think a little more clearly. Part of her still believed, but she had finally understood that it was impossible to fake it anymore.

Shrummer and Trevor were incompatible with all that she held dear. All they could do was bring her pain. Maybe Draco was different, and she still loved him, but he would have to make a choice.

"You ..."

She couldn't do it. She didn't dare ask him to choose sides. He was too stubborn for that, and couldn't bare the risk of hearing him say what she feared. Ginny felt a terrible despair rising in her. She lowered her wand and rushed to the door, desperate to leave the room before she lost all control.

Draco remained standing, stunned and unable to understand if it was really over, or if there was some kind of hope left. He only roused himself when the bell for the first class sounded.

- - -

_Ministry of Magic,_

Septimus Shrummer was feeling content with himself. Everything was progressing according to plan. The only setback, if it could be called that, was the reduced urgency of the Goblin crisis. That damnable Weasley had managed to restore a situation which had been designed to be intractable. Shrummer would never have believed it of him. At least with the man out the way, it was now possible to stoke the fires regularly, although they had to be careful so that they could still blame it on the Goblins.

In any case, this and other little hitches bothered him, and when he was bothered or upset, he needed to eat more. His hand was reaching out toward a stack of muffins and crumpets on a plate, when a chime sounded on his desk.

"Yes?"

It was his secretary, Marge Pennywrinkle. He had kept her on, because it was convenient, and she was doing a good job, although he secretly suspected her of cursing the potted plant behind which Cornelius Fudge's portrait was hung. A week ago, he could not see it at all, and now the top part of the picture was clearly visible. Sometimes, he could even see a flash of the former Minister's face as the portrait jumped up and down in an attempt to get a view of his former office. It was an annoying, but minor, thing. He seized a muffin and sliced it open with a practiced _Diffindo _spell.

"Sorry to disturb you, Minister," said Marge. "But Percival Weasley is here to see you."

Shrummer sighed. The steaming muffin looked delicious on its plate. Well, he could always work and eat at the same time.

"Let him in."

"Good morning, Minister,"

Percy came in with his customary serious and earnest face, carrying a small folder. Shrummer found him unexpectedly loyal and useful. It seemed that the Weasley clan was full of surprises. He splashed some marmalade on one of the muffin half and bit into it with gusto. Percy saw that the Minister's tea cup was empty. He put the folder down and proceeded to dutifully refill it. Shrummer's mouth was full, so he just nodded and grunted his thanks. He gestured toward the folder, silently asking what the matter was.

"We have a small problem for lodging all the new prisoners, sir," said Percy in his clipped precise voice. "Too many of them I'm afraid." He consulted a note in his folder. "Fortunately, we were able to find an appropriate accommodation for them. An old country castle that the Ministry leases from time to time. Plenty of dungeons for our purpose. I just need you to sign the-"

"Wait a minute," interrupted Shrummer, after he had managed to swallow the rest of his muffin. He gulped a swallow of tea to wash it down. "What prisoners?"

Percy looked surprised.

"Well, those guilty of defiance of the new regulations, sir. Under age magic. I must say that Law Enforcement was very efficient on that score." He took in the Minister's blank face. "Terribly sorry, sir. I thought you knew."

Shrummer was flabbergasted. What was the man talking about?

"Bu- But the law has just been passed!" He stared incredulously at him. "You don't mean that..."

"Sir?" Percy was politely inquisitive.

Shrummer frowned furiously and activated the desk floo terminal.

"Get me Cufflinks! Immediately!" he barked.

While the call was being made, he hurriedly prepared another muffin. Percy respectfully poured him more tea.

"Yes, Minister?"

"Cufflinks, what's this I hear about prisoners?" asked Shrummer briskly.

"Ah, Er," Douglas Cufflinks looked very embarrassed. He was the wizard who had taken over the Law Enforcement department from Amelia Bones. His face showed tired lines and other telling signs of a man working long hours in a difficult job. "Actually it's only a mistake Minister. We're releasing them all and-"

"What do you mean a mistake?" roared Shrummer. He looked at Percy. "How many are they?"

"Ninety seven, sir," said Percy smartly.

"Ninety seven!" Shrummer turned toward Cufflinks who flinched visibly under his glare. "What happened?" he growled.

Cufflinks explained that upon learning of the new law, it seemed that a number of law enforcement officials had immediately decided to round up all the non pure blood wizards which were now technically under the legal age, and which were found guilty of practicing magic. Even the Aurors had been on it, with veteran warriors in full uniform beating down doors, arresting youths in the street and in various locations. Public reaction had been fierce, and several older wizards had also been charged with obstructing justice.

"ARE YOU MAD!" screamed Shrummer. "The law wasn't meant to be retroactive!"

"Er, I know that sir," said a contrite Cufflinks. "It was a mistake on the part of over zealous officers. I was just having the prisoners released, but ..."

"But what?"

"Well, we've received a lot of complaints. There are already several appeals to the Wizengamot. I should place these officers under house arrest, but there are really many of them, and the morale situation being what it is ..."

He didn't finish but Shrummer understood what the man was saying. Law Enforcement was already on the brink of implosion. Arresting officers _en masse_ would push everybody over the edge. He dismissed Cufflinks and closed the connection.

"Weasley, you heard the man?" he said tiredly, wiping his brow which had become covered in sweat.

"Yes sir. I understand that there is no need for special accommodations," said Percy, closing his folder smartly. "Frankly it's a relief sir. We already have a lot to do as things are."

Shrummer looked closely at the young wizard to search for any sign of irony, but he found none. He gestured vaguely with his hand. Percy bowed smartly and left.

_Bones!_ thought Shrummer. _She did this. I'm sure. Vindictive bitch. It was easy enough for her to call upon her former subordinates to ridicule the Ministry in that way. They're lucky that I need them for the moment, but when I don't, I'll show them what a purge is like._

Then a thought came in his mind and he smiled. What was he gripping about? That kind of subversive action could be used to justify what he wanted to do. He placed a call to Alan Boocrat and explained what had happened.

"I could use this to work up more unrest. Could we use it to justify the Camelot takeover sooner?" he asked.

The scholar was annoyed. What was the use of making careful plans if they were not followed?

"No. That crucial decision will be made in the manner we have agreed," he said icily. "According to the detailed plan which I have carefully and patiently conceived, and in the only set of circumstances which will guarantee our success."

Shrummer had just been told that he had asked a stupid question. He banged the connection shut and reached for the plate of pastries.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Draco took the first opportunity to contact Trevor Themis. The wizard's secretary claimed that he was very busy, but Draco insisted so much that he was finally granted a floo meeting. Draco told Trevor squarely that the new laws were alienating a lot of people, and affecting public support for the Ministry. He didn't mention Ginny. He might have if the other wizard had asked about her, but the conversation quickly took on a very professional tone.

"We're doing a lot right now," said Trevor. "It's very important to take advantage of this transitional period to pass most of the key laws we have planned. We need to do it before we get bogged down. Some of the issues are technical, and this means that some decrees get published in disorder."

Draco didn't really care about the new laws the Ministry would be announcing. He wanted Trevor to make them more palatable, or at least to give some advance warning. He said so.

"Draco, I'm really sorry about this. We don't have the time to dress everything nice and sweet, but the next batch should please you more."

"What do you mean?"

"We've raised the legal age in some circumstances, but we also want to lower it in others. We're also planning to make the Hogwarts curriculum less rigid."

Draco stayed silent. It wasn't what he had come to ask, but it was clear from his face that he was interested.

"For wizards with ancestry such as yours, or the Weasleys, and with a minimum of OWLs, the legal age would be lowered to sixteen, and you wouldn't have to finish the seventh year of schooling. You would be allowed to take NEWT exams in the next three years and to study for them part time. For you that would mean that you would receive full use of the Malfoy inheritance, and you could apply for a job."

Trevor looked at him with a triumphant expression.

"And I've got one for you in the Ministry right now Draco. We're changing the old guard and we need new talent. We've planned it that all along, but we couldn't be sure it would work. That's why we had to pass those restrictions on Muggle borns. We didn't care for it either, but it was part of the package to get enough of the old farts to give us a free reign." He gestured impatiently. "Come on. Don't tell me you want to stay another year at that school when you can live in London and help us remake the world."

"I could get a job at the Ministry?" asked Draco incredulously. "Soon?"

"That and the Malfoy fortune. Yes. We just need a couple more weeks." Trevor saw that his words had the expected effect. "Does that make you feel better?"

Draco was hardly looking at him. It made sense, and it certainly placed a different perspective on things. It was so much what he wanted, that he couldn't imagine it was not also what Ginny wanted. And if she didn't want it ... He stopped that line of thought.

"Yeah. It does make me feel better, but-"

"What is it?" Trevor let show a hint of irritation in his voice. "I've really got a full plate on my desk, Draco."

"It's about Hermione," Draco said quickly. "You know she's Muggle born, but it really doesn't make sense for her to wait two years and..."

Trevor looked back with an expression of impatience, and Draco could see that there was some disappointment in it as well. _Damn that girl! If she or Ginny ever say once again that I'm not doing all I can for her, then I'm giving it all up._

"Draco, loyalty to your friends is great, but one day we're going to have a talk about priorities," said Trevor with a frown. Draco looked stubborn, and the other wizard continued. "All right. I basically agree with you, so we'll think about special cases like her. I don't know. Some kind of bonus for good grade on OWLs or whatever."

Draco gave him his best smile.

"Thanks Trevor. I really appreciate it."

"Good. Now if I can get back to work ..."

"Right. Thanks for taking the trouble to talk to me."

"It's okay Draco. I know it's hard. Just hang on in there. We haven't forgotten you, and we'll get you out. Oh. One things though. Don't talk about this to anybody. If it leaks out," he grimaced, "well we just don't need complications."

"No problem. I'll keep quiet. Bye." _Complications? I've had enough of those for the rest of the year._

"Bye then."

Draco stood up. He did a few stretches to relive the kinks from the long conversation, and his own tense muscles. Floo calls were unpleasant that way. He was now highly excited and feeling much better after what he had learned. He wondered if he should talk about it with Ginny or not. Trevor had probably assumed that he would, but then he wasn't aware that Ginny was taking things, well not very positively. In fact, in the state she was right now, she was probably capable of spilling the beans to one of the others, and that could cause all sorts of problems. He decided that it would be best to say nothing and wait. He knew he would pay a price for it, last night was probably the last time he would get to touch her for while, but it was all for a good cause.

_She'll understand. When all will be said and done, she'll understand._

Maybe even Hermione would understand in time, although he wouldn't bet on it. He would just settle for Ginny.

- - -

The next day _The Prophet_ announced the messed up arrest. There was a lot of outrage in the school, even if some people found it mostly ridiculous. The Ministry had also published a short and embarrassed note explaining that the law was not retroactive and that it was an innocent mistake. It got a lot less publicity than the main article.

There was something else in the paper. The last page of the magazine had been leased for a private announcement.

_THE FRATERNITY OF MAGIC MANIFESTO_

_We represent a group of wizards and witches who vehemently oppose the racist politics of the Ministry of Magic. To this effect we have created a movement which we call Fraternity of Magic, and whose purpose is to promote the welfare and mutual respect for and between all magical beings._

Then followed the main points defended in the FOM statutes, and upon which Bones had based her candidacy.

_Join us in our peaceful struggle against the retrograde policies of an administration which only cares for the continuation of obsolete privileges._

_Pledge your support to Fraternity of Magic._

Hermione also received a letter from the former Ministry official.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I hope that you will forgive me for hijacking your association. I assure you that all the credit will be given to you as soon as possible. I think that it wouldn't be prudent to do so openly for the moment, but if you feel differently then let me know and I will correct it._

_In the meantime, please receive this in the spirit in which it is offered. As a symbol of hope in a time of trouble. Take care of yourself._

_With my respects and sympathy._

_Amelia Bones._

Hermione alternated between the two papers. Her eyes were bright with emotion. She would have very much liked to launch FOM herself, but this was the next best thing. Harry was reading over her shoulder.

"Looks like she doesn't believe in giving up," he said.

He turned around to look at how the Slytherin table was taking it. Draco seemed serene enough and some of the older students made disparaging remarks. One even tore up the page and threw it on the floor. There were no manifestation of support for the new initiative among them, but he knew that vocal minorities were rare in Slytherin. Those who disagreed did so quietly, and they would wait for the balance of power to shift before declaring themselves.

Things were much more democratic at the other tables. For and against arguments raged loudly until the teachers imposed order.

"Did you notice that Ginny doesn't sit with Draco anymore?" remarked Hermione.

Harry had noted it as well. She was over with Ron and Luna, and they completely ignored the news and the arguments around them. He knew that Hermione disapproved their attitude. She called it burying one's head in the sand. He wasn't as sanguine, and he could understand that they might just want to get on with their lives.

Ron was facing away from where he and Hermione where sitting. When he turned, Harry looked quickly away so as not to see the expression of angry hatred and loathing that he knew would be there. It was getting so that it made him physically uncomfortable. Once again pain and resentment filled him. He thought that Ron was really being unfair, and he was beginning to hate him back in turn. It was frightening because, in his heart he had already forgiven Ginny, and he could imagine getting back at least on speaking terms with Draco, but with Ron it seemed that there was nothing left but hate.

- - -

_Ministry of Magic,_

Dumbledore finished reading the parchment, his mouth half opened and his eyes looking down through his spectacles, and then he sighed and let it fall down on the table.

_Nothing. There is nothing useful in all this._

He didn't even remember how long he had been at it. Days. Weeks. He could check his watch to know the precise answer, but whatever that number was, it didn't matter. He had taken on the work as a mission of atonement, and he had little enough to show for it. One thing that he had found out was that it was not a matter of simply duplicating Galleons. He also had to destroy their power. It would have been a fascinating demonstration of advanced magical theory, if it wasn't such a tragedy.

Money was symbolic, and magic was the manipulation of symbols to affect reality. This made magical money something extremely potent. The Galleons that the Goblins held in their vaults couldn't be replaced because of the same power which made them impossible to forge. If he succeeded in creating a substitute currency, then the contents of the Gringotts vaults would actually disappear. This was both good and bad news. Good news was that they wouldn't have to use veritaserum, or Legimency, or something similar, to know how much money to affect to each wizard or witch in replacement of their Gringotts accounts. That would work out automatically. The bad news, the really bad news was that the new system would have to override the Goblins' peculiar metal enchantements, and the cumulative community magic which resulted from the regular use of their services by generations of wizards.

_Actually, that might not be such bad news after all._

Dumbledore didn't know where to find such power, and even if he did, he would be very wary of using it, and even more of letting anyone have access to it. Only the likes of Merlin had ever shown it. He knew that he himself could conjure exceptional quantity of magical energy, but not enough to overthrow the reality the Gringotts bank. The Headmaster didn't know about the Power Circles. He knew that there was something special in Hogwarts, but he didn't know what exactly. The Founders had left many secrets behind them. He had seldom felt the need to search them all out.

_Too much secrets, too much useless knowledge, and so little understanding._

He was tired. Tired to the very depth of his soul, but he had a plan. One last gambit.

Alan Boocrat came in with a new pile of books. The old Unspeakable was a strange one. Immensely learned, but not as useful as Dumbledore had hoped. He had made a number of interesting suggestions, but they had always led to dead ends. Certainly he was helpful, but it seemed that whenever a simple question was asked of him, the answer was always a pile of old, dusty and barely legible books.

"I seem to recall some reference to magical seashells in one of these," he said in his ancient, raspy voice. "Some tribes used them for barter in early Lebanon. If I remember correctly, they used Mermaids to-"

"Thank you, my friend, but I do not think it is worth the trouble."

The Scholar showed disappointment. Privately he was not surprised. The Hogwarts Headmaster had done a remarkable job, and of course he had come to the only possible conclusion.

"Are you sure? Perhaps we could simply scan through these."

"No. We have already determined the best rituals for minting the new money. I will simply summarize our results and present them to the Minister."

Dumbledore wasn't sure if the old scholar understood what the problem was. Maybe he didn't, and in that case, the Headmaster would not enlighten him. He would give the correct, but unworkable, solution and let the Ministry attempt it. He would even cooperate fully since there was a very real chance that the failure of the ritual would actually strengthen the Goblin power, and make a war against them unwinnable.

_A desperate plan, but the only one which I can conceive._

Alan placed the books on a side table. He made a gesture of acceptance and asked the Headmaster if he required anything else. Dumbledore replied that he had all he needed, and so the other wizard took his leave. He went to the small private library that he used as an office, closed the door and checked his private wards. When he was sure that he would not be disturbed, he threw a pinch of floo powder in the fireplace.

"Yes?" Electra's face showed in the flames.

"It is time to accelerate the desecration. We will be moving soon."

"Excellent I will contact Dragonis and we will go there tonight. Meet us at the usual place."

- - -

_Gringotts,_

Gauldbag looked up to see Graskut hand him a thick folder.

"What is this?" asked the Director.

"Our file on the wizard Alan Boocrat," said the Goblin. "Who is also known as Albert Beaverpage, or Andrew Blotterinc, or half a dozen names with the same initials. Wizard Bones mentioned him last night."

"Ah yes. The wizard working with Albus Dumbledore," completed Gauldbag. "I remember. So he is not just an old scholar?"

"He is that certainly. An authority on the ones they call the Hogwarts Founders, and other powerful humans of history. We have traced him through a number of our subsidiaries in Europe. It appears that he likes to move around and hide his identity. We know it is the same human, because there is only one vault key for all those names."

Gauldbag opened the folder and looked at the picture inside. It showed a very old human wizard, holding himself very straight. There was a hint of disdain on his unsmiling face.

"What else?"

"He has worked with the wizard Thelas on several occasions. That is unusual enough for a scholar. We also have information linking him to wizard Minister Shrummer."

"Hum. He is part of this then. What do you suggest?"

"We cannot investigate him directly. Perhaps the humans could."

"Yes. We could ask them to do that." He drummed his fingers on the folder. "Let me think about it."

When Graskut had left, the Gringotts director reflected on this new development. Certainly he would send this information to his new allies, but they might not be able to do much with it. Their actions were evidently aimed against the Ministry. Because of that, he was certain that they would soon be hounded by the wizard police. Perhaps they would prevail, perhaps not. In any case, they would probably be too busy to help him.

The Goblins needed another powerful ally in the wizard world. He took out another folder in which there was a photograph of a spectacled young man with a gentle smile and messy black hair. His brow was decorated with a lightning shaped scar.

_Harry Potter. Hero of the war against the Evil One, and now a simple student, in the school created by those wizards whom Alan Boocrat was famously studying._

The file was a thick one. Goblins were either warriors or bureaucrats. The latter liked keeping information on things and people. It was a shame that most of it always got destroyed during the rebellions of the former. Gauldbag turned the pages. He vaguely remembered a reference to something which had happened four years ago. There it was. Very interesting, unique actually. It was typical of humans to have missed it, but then as a Goblin, he was well placed to know of their prejudices.

He looked at the photograph again. The boy was an unknown quantity, but he had shown remarkable resources. It was clear that Albus Dumbledore didn't want him to participate in the current crisis, and that was reason enough for Gauldbag to consider pulling him into it. Who knows? The situation was deadlocked. Throwing an ingot into the machinery might actually do some good. If he had learned something from the current crisis, it was that doing the unexpected could pay off.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Luna made her decision. She and Ron were getting into the Bubble, preparing to share another evening together. They were spending a lot of time there. After all, the current situation gave them that opportunity. Certainly, it was the only positive aspect she could see, but most importantly, it allowed her to do all she could to make Ron feel better. Something was broken inside him. He didn't talk about it, and she didn't ask, but she didn't need words to understand the boy she loved.

But understanding was not enough. He was going much too far in his ranting against Harry, and even Hermione. She had touched Harry's mind, and she had seen one thing. She lived in Ron's, and she saw another. It was impossible, and while she didn't know how to resolve the paradox, she was convinced that at the very least, some doubts should be in Ron's mind. The two friends would never get back together otherwise.

And there was another reason for intervening. The hate was like a cancer eating at his soul. He had even started to espouse some of the 'pureblood' rhetoric. At first she had thought that it was just a reaction to everything that had happened, and that it would not last, but he kept making not so innocent remarks on Muggle influences and 'true' wizard principles.

"Ron?"

"Hum, yeah?"

"Close your eyes. I want to show you something."

He smiled and obeyed, trusting as he always was with her. Luna braced herself and raised her hand to touch his face. This was not going to be pleasant, and Ron would resent it violently, but it would be for his own good.

- - -

_Hogwarts, next morning,_

The big news that day was that FOM had been outlawed by the Ministry. That development was not entirely unexpected, and it was used as an argument by both sides to justify their position. The actual clamor it generated was less than that of the previous days, because at that point the majority of students were clearly bored by the subject, and the remaining diehards had taken to sit together. In consequence, few people were actually arguing anymore. The very real split in the student body, and even in some of the staff, was essentially visible in the way in which the groups refused to mix.

Harry had mail that morning, which was unusual. Since the defeat of Voldemort, Dumbledore had conceived a special charm to divert 'fan mail' to a special service which took care of it automatically. Harry and the others never saw it, unless they wanted to. They had done so in the first days, but the novelty had quickly worn off.

This time it was not a letter but a thick sheaf of papers. He glanced rapidly at it and saw that it was marked _CONFIDENTIAL_. There were a lot of people around, so he placed the package inside his robes.

"Harry?" said Hermione.

"Too many prying eyes," he said. "We'll look at it later."

"I know. I didn't mean that, but did you notice that Ron and Luna are not together this morning?"

Harry looked around and effectively, Luna was sitting at her table. Sometimes Ron and Ginny joined her over there, as a basic courtesy to the Ravenclaws, but today he was at the other end of the Gryffindor table, and Ginny was the only one with Luna.

Harry wondered if the stupid git had managed to drive off the last of his friends. He wouldn't be surprised.

Ginny had also asked herself why her brother wasn't joining them.

_That's really all we need. Another quarrel._

She examined Luna's face. The other girl seemed calm enough, but it was sometimes hard to tell with her. She only showed distress when it was pretty bad.

"Not to worry," said the other girl out of the blue. She had sensed Ginny's anxiety, and of course the reason for it was obvious. "He's mad at me, but it won't last." She stirred her tea and added a spoonful of milk. She loved the way in which clouds formed in the liquid. Sometimes she saw fleeting shapes there.

"What happened?"

"I made him see some things about himself that he didn't like," answered Luna.

Knowing her brother, Ginny could imagine what some of those things could be. She marveled however that Luna would dare play such mind games with Ron, and especially that she was so confident in the results. She would never - she checked her herself. She had thrown some pretty strong truth at Draco.

_Yeah. Breaking up truths actually_.

She hadn't discussed their row with Luna, and the other girl had not asked any questions. Ginny was welcome to sit with her, everybody was welcome, unless they wanted to be aggressive, in which case Luna would simply pull into her shell, showing the world her armor of deceit and bizarreness.

"What you probably did was not the same thing," remarked Luna, serenely looking at her with her big clear eyes. She smiled at Ginny's gasp of surprise. Her friends never seemed to ready to acknowledge how much she could read from them. "Ron knows that I hold nothing against him."

"Why did you do it then?"

"His resentment at Harry was destroying his soul. It was like a poison, or a disease perhaps. He needed to be aware of that."

She looked at Ron's back, over at the Gryffindor table. He was deliberately avoiding her, but Ginny could only see tranquil affection on Luna's face. It was the same when her gaze moved on to Harry and Hermione, who were whispering to each other like conspirators, and then at Draco at the other end of the hall. Ginny realized that behind her apparent passivity, Luna was actively trying to aid them. She was also doing it in a very subtle manner. She remembered how she had brought Alicia and Ron together, and she suddenly had a suspicion that she probably was behind another good deed.

"The keyword," she blurted out. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"I didn't do it," replied Luna calmly. "I only helped Hermione unmake a decision she regretted."

Ginny looked back with mixed feelings. On one hand she was grateful, very grateful, on the other she wondered if it had all been for nothing. It looked like the forces which were tearing them apart were stronger than anything they could do. Luna sensed her sadness and reached out to take her friend's hand.

"I don't believe in failure Ginny. I only accept that sometimes it is necessary to wait a little longer to achieve what we want."

- - -

_Forbidden Forest,_

Bane saw the Herd Mentor return with the party, but this time there was no life in their movement. The young Centaur was not bouncing joyfully right and left, as they usually did when their sudden intelligence showed them a new and wonderful universe. He immediately understood what has happened. The Ritual had failed. It was terrible news.

The bereaved parents trotted silently past. Bane approached Lyman and asked what had happened.

"The ground did not feel right. Aside from that, there were no Signs. But the Circle did not fully activate. I tried several times. I could see the gateways, but the magic of the Pure Ones was not there anymore."

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Harry and Hermione skipped lunch to get a chance to check the documents he had received. There was a lot of stuff, including a letter from Gauldbag.

_Wizard Potter,_

_I am sending you this in the hope that it may be useful to both of us. I suppose that you have followed currents events. Perhaps you think that things are only temporarily tense, and that normal relations will soon be restored between our communities. There is little chance of that, and I am fighting for the survival of my people._

_You have fought evil before, and won. I fear that more evil lurks around us, and by that I mean you and your friends as well._

_Enclosed is information which we have collected. It is incomplete and we cannot act on most of it. Perhaps you can. After all, freedom makes for a powerful servant. May you will find the truth and prosper. _

_Gauldbag - Gringotts Director_

"Well," said Hermione, who had been quickly classifying the various documents. "This is very interesting. We've got files on Sir Comil, and on two other wizards named Armand Thelas and Alan Boocrat. I remember that last one. Draco mentioned him at the Parkinsons. There's a copy of a financial contract with some annotations on it. Something on Umbridge. I wonder what she's doing here? There's also a report about Dumbledore." She opened the file and gasped. "Harry! It says that he's trying to replace Goblin money. And that he's doing it for the Ministry!"

It took them longer to make a detailed survey of everything that they had received. What was said and implied on the Headmaster made for an even more damning case against him, then again it sounded too crazy for what even Hermione was prepared to believe.

"It looks like there isn't much that we can do about any of this," said Harry. "It might be worthwhile to take a look at these people's houses, but they're probably magically hidden and warded like Hogwarts." He read the letter again and the more he thought about it, the less he understood why Gauldbag had sent it. "Funny writing style these Goblins, they sure like flowery phrases. He quoted: '_ freedom makes for a powerful servant. May you will find truth._'

Hermione's head jerked up. Her face became vacant. Something about a servant and freedom. They were anything but free, locked up here in school...

_Servant ... Freedom ... Power ..._

_Dobby! I remember when he found me in the library that other day. Dobby has been freed and that means that he can go anywhere he wants._

"Harry, can you call Dobby here?" she asked immediately. It was one thing which they had discovered. When in Grimauld Place or at Hogwarts, Harry only needed to concentrate and speak the Elf's name, for him to appear.

"I can try. Hum." He closed his eyes. "Dobby?"

With a small 'pop', the Elf materialized next to them.

"Harry Potter called? Is Harry Potter hungry? Or thirsty? Lunch is over now, but Dobby knows that Harry Potter has not eaten. Nor Missy Hermione, but Dobby can get food for them."

"Er, thanks a lot Dobby, maybe later. Right now Hermione wanted to speak to you."

The Elf toward Hermione with an eager expression on his face. Hermione started speaking before he could launch into another one of his diatribes.

"Dobby. There is a house where a certain wizard lives. We need to have a look at it, but we can't go there ourselves. Could you get inside for us?"

"Dobby can go into any wizard's place," he said proudly. "Dobby knows how to do that. He is a very powerful Elf. Where is the house?"

Hermione showed him the papers they had received, but the small creature shook his head. There wasn't a proper address but the description was detailed enough. A full page of it.

"Dobby cannot read. Dobby is a miserable ignorant Elf." He started to bang his fist against his head and wail. "Dobby cannot help Harry Potter and Missy Hermione. Dobby is a failure. Bad-"

Harry grabbed him and calmed him down. It took some time but they finally managed to solve the problem. Dobby was sent to Grimauld place for an atlas on which Hermione pointed out the general location of the house. From there, she read aloud the directions given by the Goblins. Dobby finally announced that he knew where the house was, and that of course he could get inside.

"What must Dobby do at that place?" he asked.

"It's a scholar's home. There will probably be a lot of books and papers," said Harry. "Some of them might contain clues which could help us."

Dobby looked alarmed at the thought that his inability to read would cause him to fail in his mission, but Hermione reassured him.

"Don't worry about reading anything Dobby." She reached into a bag and took out a pair of glasses. "You will wear these. They're a kind of simplified Omniculars. We'll be able to replay what you saw."

She showed him how to start and stopped recording. The Elf looked dubious and confused but said nothing. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. They would have to arrange some practice for this to have any chance of success.

"All right. We've got to get back to classes now," she said. "We'll meet tonight in the Room of Requirement and explain everything in details."

- - -

When dinner was over, Draco selected to do a little solitary walking. Tonight, after the uplift that his conversation with Trevor had brought, he was now feeling a comparable let down.

He was going to get his cloak from the racks next to the courtyard doors, when he noticed that Luna following him, or at least going in the same direction.

"Hi there," he said.

"Hello, Draco," she replied gently. "Are you going out?" He nodded.

"Just a little walk. You too?"

"I was thinking of looking at the stars from one of the towers."

He almost made a joke about the Astronomy tower, but then he thought better of it. Actually, just thinking of the most famous trysting place of the school was pretty depressing right now. Instead, he selected her coat from the proper rack and held it out for her.

She smiled and slipped her arms inside, and then she did the same for him. It was just an innocent show of politeness between friends. Nothing to rave about, but it was also a true display of respect and kindness, and Draco found that he appreciated it more than he should have. When he was almost done, as his hand was coming out of the sleeve, Luna softly closed her arms around him from behind. She hugged him through the cloak, and for a second he felt such a flood of warm and unrestricted affection that it almost overwhelmed him. Then she released him and went her own way, giving him a smile and a little airy wave with her hand.

It took him a moment to recover. When he and Ginny were together, they felt passion. A boiling rush of blood and the drunkenness of desire. For him, that had been the definition of love. Luna was showing him another facet of that human emotion. He didn't know why she had done that. He supposed it was just a kind gesture from her.

Draco finished buttoning his cloak and went outside. The weather was not as cold as in the past days, spring was finally coming, but it was still chilly. He stored his hands in his pockets and started to walk, and think about the problem that was eating at him. He didn't know what he wanted anymore. What he was being offered by Trevor was great. At first he had felt only gratitude, and then when thinking about it once more, he had realized that it was nothing more than what he would have regardless in little more than a year's time.

And the price was ... Well basically, the price was his friends, and quite possibly Ginny.

When things were put that way, it looked like a fool's bargain. If it was that simple, then he would certainly refuse. Unfortunately, there were complications. First of all, he was already largely committed. It would be incomprehensible to others if he was to change sides now. Second, he still believed that Shrummer had a better strategy than Hermione or Bones, or Dumbledore. He was _doing_ things, and he was using the power at his disposal to make things change. Bones and Hermione were counting of the kindness of strangers, a dangerous utopia in his mind, and Dumbledore was spending too much time scheming.

There didn't seem to be a clear and simple solution. He truly felt like a doomed character in a bad drama. How nice it would be to be like Luna, with no ambition and no problems. He thought back about the wonderful feeling she had make him experience, and then he remembered the only other time when he had felt something similar. It was the time when they had merged their magic, the six of them, to fight Voldemort. The day they had turned their unity into a power beyond that of the Dark Lord. That too, would be part of the price to pay.

"Damn you Trevor!" he whispered. "Damn you to hell."

The only thing close to him was a small shrub, patiently waiting for winter to end and for the sun to make it grow. Draco kicked at it violently. Venting the pain and the frustration on the innocent plant.

- - -

Later that evening, after several hours of coaching, Dobby was finally ready. The Room of Requirement now looked eerily like a magical version of Q's weapon lab, and if Dobby couldn't be more different from James Bond, he was almost as well equipped. In addition to the Omniglasses, he had several sheets of charmed blank papers which could be used to photocopy any written or drawn material. Hermione had also given him a magical parchment which would automatically draw a map of the layout of the house. All he had to do was walk around while holding it. From Harry he had received a pair of Extensible ears and his invisibility cloak.

"All right Dobby, now remember. Don't try to search for anything special. Concentrate on books and papers which might be lying around. I've written down some names and the usual symbols for Goblins. Anything referring to that might be important."

The Elf nodded seriously. To his excited delight, the room had conjured several examples of 'spy' clothing, and he had selected a small black ninja suit, complete with a black woolen ski cap. He looked positively smashing.

_The House Elf from S.P.E.W._ thought Harry. _Well if it works, I'm not complaining._

"If anybody sees you, then get the hell out. Don't take any risk. All right?"

The Elf gave a funny looking salute and snapped his fingers, disappearing with a small popping sound.

Harry looked at Hermione and sighed. Now all they had to do was to wait.

- - -

_Scholar's House,_

Being a House Elf, it was actually easier for Dobby to arrive inside the house, rather than outside it. The Goblins' description had implied that there would be an attic, and he made the wish to materialize there. Elves had a lot more flexibility in their brand of teleport travel than wizards had in Apparation. He knew that he would be able to make last minute changes if there was no attic, or if someone was in it.

He was alone in a dusty and unused place, but he was inside. He could already sense many things about the house. There were other Elves somewhere, but no humans. With luck, the Elves would ignore him, at least if he didn't stay there long enough. They would normally suppose that he belonged to a wizard who was a friend of the owner.

He pulled on the invisibility cloak and started down the stairs. The number of books around the house was simply amazing. He followed a corridor lined with doors. He tried them, or 'popped' through when they were locked. Most were laboratories of some kind, with incomprehensible apparatus and devices, and more books.

One room had a large landscape model, with a miniature castle next to a lake. Dobby recognized the Hogwarts grounds immediately. He clicked on the recording on the Omniglasses and moved around the diorama to get in all the details. As he looked closer at the main building, the outside surface turned gradually transparent, and details of the interior structure became visible. He tried to get in as best a view as he could, and then he looked around for anything else. One book was lying opened on a table. He took two of the blank sheets and placed them on the exposed pages. He waited a few seconds and saw that the text was copied perfectly.

He continued his exploration. There was another model of another castle, this one in ruins, and a few other opened books, and loose sheets, but nothing as spectacular. He copied all he could, but he didn't have enough sheets for everything. He concentrated on pages with drawings, as Hermione had asked him to. There was one of something which looked like a circular temple with pillars. The last interesting thing that he saw was a scorched book. It was unusual because all the other volumes were in excellent condition. It was only this one which looked to have been rescued from flames. He knew that it must have been a magical fire, because otherwise the book would have been restored. He opened the book and looked at the first pages with the glasses on.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

When Dobby came back, Harry and Hermione had fallen asleep on a large four-poster bed which the room had graciously conjured for them. The Elf woke them up and recounted his mission in a very excited voice. The first details were a little confused, but they finally got the full story. The existence of the miniature models of Hogwarts, and of the other castle, looked very exciting but their actual significance was not clear.

They were both tired and sleepy, and Hermione would need to work in the library to fill in some of the blanks from the extracts which Dobby had recovered. Harry proposed that while she did that, he would try to match any details from the model Hogwarts to the Marauder's Map. It was Friday night, and they would have the whole week end to do all this.

The next morning, they meet again in Hagrid's cabin, a little before lunch time.

"You first," proposed Hermione.

Harry took out the Marauders' Map and laid it on the floor.

"Well most of what I could get from the model is already in the Map, but of course what Dobby saw may not be everything there is. It would take more time to look at it from all the possible angles. I did find something new though." He gave her the glasses and some explanations.

"I see," she said. "Some kind of stairway going down. Where it leads is not visible, but its goes very deep under the foundations."

"Yeah. And the opening should be somewhere near the kitchens. We'll take a look later on." He replaced the glasses in their bag. "What about you?"

"A couple of things, but nothing conclusive. More questions actually." She took her notebook. "Surprisingly little about the Goblins, actually there are more references concerning the Centaurs. That scorched book is the same one that Luna had been given. There are hints about something called a 'Power Circle' who would have been lost, and about a plan to recover it."

"What kind of plan?"

"Not enough data. There are indications that Shrummer and that financier wizard, Thelas, are implicated. One phrase stood out though." She fished for the page where she had found it. "There it is: '_We will use the curse of Slytherin to neutralize them. It is poetic justice that the best of Hogwarts will serve to undo the conspiracy of its Founders._'" She looked up. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"No. Sounds pretty sinister. Who do you think is "them'?"

"Good question," she replied. "Worth at least twenty points I would think."

"'Best of Hogwarts'. That could refer to Dumbledore."

"Or to us." He expressed surprise and she looked embarrassed. "Well, it's true. No need to be modest about it."

Harry stayed silent for a moment. When he spoke his voice was hesitant.

"I'm getting a nasty suspicion about this." _Slytherin, the best, falling out between Founders. It really points to one person._

"Draco." She had been thinking the same thing.

"I don't believe it," he said firmly.

"Harry-"

"No, Mione. Listen to me. I agree that he's part of this, but I'm sure that he's being used. Luna says that he is sincere, and I believe her."

"She says that Ron-"

"I know that, and I'm sure that there is an explanation. Maybe he really went crazy. The way he's acting I'm ready to believe anything about him. It doesn't really matter." He dismissed the subject with a sharp gesture as if Ron was not somebody important anymore.

"Draco hasn't gone over, nor has Dumbledore. They're being used. That's the meaning of that sentence," he continued. "Some kind of enemy is using them for a purpose we don't understand."

The more he was saying these things, the more Harry knew that the truth was in that direction. It was not something based on logic, and so he could not convince Hermione that way, but she also knew how to listen to her feelings, and his own.

"Luna can be wrong about anything but sincerity," he finished.

"Hum." She remembered the phrase Luna has said the other day.

_... It's what you are that's important, not what you do, or what others see you doing..._

Like the last time, she could sense that those words were important, but her normally brilliant brain was refusing to do its work. She was dealing with too many incomprehensible things. Too many inconclusive facts were littering her mind.

"Let's skip that for the moment," she finally said. "There's another question. Why?"

Harry was asking himself the same question, but he was too excited to want to continue playing with riddles. Action was what he was ready for. He planted his finger on the Marauder's Map, near the entrance of the kitchens. Little tags with Elvish names moved around it.

"Maybe the answer is here. We find the passageway and follow it down."

She pursed her lips and thought about it. There didn't seem to be any reason for not doing just that. She too was tired of just thinking about their problem.

"All right. Let's go."

They went back inside the school and descended to the service level where the kitchens and the general storage rooms were. They couldn't find any obvious secret opening. It looked like it was going to take them a long time to solve the mystery, and then Hermione thought of asking Dobby to help them.

It was a fine idea. The Elf had no trouble in detecting an unusual void behind a wall, and then getting across. When he came back and described a descending staircase, they knew that they had found it. From the other side, he was able to work the mechanism easily since it was not hidden in any way. It took a few more tries and then they understood how it operated from the outside as well.

They thanked Dobby and moved into the opening. They closed the entrance and started to climb down a very long stairway carved into the rock on which the castle was built. They didn't need to cast lighting spells. Enchanted torches were placed regularly on the walls. The passage spiraled smoothly downwards. As they descended, a thrilling sense of anticipation filled them. To Harry, it felt exactly like the first time he had gone into the Chamber of Secrets. He only hoped that there wasn't anything like a Basilisk down there.

After a few minutes, the sound of their steps changed. A new quality of reverberation prepared them for the end of the long descent. Instinctively, they both reached for their wands and prepared for something they knew to be important and close. The stairs turned into a level corridor, still twisting until it opened into a large space. It looked more like a cave than a room. The floor was not paved, although it was quite flat. The walls and the ceiling were curved and made of rough, polished stone. They could see a mass of boulders on one side, as if part of the wall had caved in. Everything looked very old.

At the center of the room, stood a raised circle bordered by five tall slabs of stone. It looked exactly like the drawing Dobby had brought back from Boocrat's house.


	28. Chapter 27 Disappearances

_Hermione is trying to understand what the Circle is, when she gets an unexpected and unfortunate (?) visit. (Warning: Mild non sexual reference to nudity.)_

* * *

**_Chapter 27 - Disappearances_**

_Hogwarts, Sunday afternoon,_

Hermione was working in the chamber, going over her notes and trying to understand the logic of the Circle. She and Harry had skipped lunch again, only this time they had accepted Dobby's offering of some sandwiches.

From what they could understand, this was what Boocrat called a Power Circle. Aside from that name, they had no idea of its true nature, only that it was important to their enemies. It was magical, that much was clear. Not only did it react to basic detection spells, but there an almost physical feeling of energy emanating from it. Aside from that, it was completely inert. Hermione had decided that it was probably a very powerful relic, and because of that, she was going to be very careful in her experiments. She would first try to understand as much as she could from passive observation. As an enigma, it fascinated her and she was giving it full priority. She was so absorbed that she could almost forget the pain of the breakup.

They had already determined that the room must have been a true cave at one time. The mass of boulders blocked another passage which probably led to somewhere outside in the Hogwarts grounds. Possibly inside the Forbidden Forest. Whatever it was, it was completely unusable, and it must have been so for a long time.

The sides of the stone slabs, and the horizontal surface of the Circle, were covered in strange runes and symbols. She had copied them down, and taken several measures. All her notes were consigned in a detailed notebook. She could have worked in the Library, or in her room, but she preferred to be in the vicinity the Circle. It might give her a crucial insight. From the library, she had recovered a number of books, in which she thought some of the symbols might be mentioned, but there was not much to go on. _Hogwarts - A History_, made absolutely no mentions of such a thing. Harry had gone to Hogsmeade to check the town's bookstore, in case there might be something useful there.

Concentrated as she was, she didn't hear Draco approaching. It was only when he passed in front of one the lit torches, and when she saw his shadow move of the wall, that she realized she wasn't alone.

She whirled around, pulling out her wand.

"What are you doing here?" she asked suspiciously.

Draco returned her glare. He was really coming in good faith, but had never liked being addressed that way, or threatened either.

"I could ask you the same question?" he snapped back. "I didn't see any 'private property' sign."

"You followed us." It was a statement.

He shrugged. He had been sad, bored and alone. Ginny was still not speaking to him, and he had resolved to make one last attempt at reaching out to Harry. This had proved to be more difficult than expected, because nobody knew where he was. After several tries, a combination of luck and carelessness on Harry's part had enabled Draco to catch him coming out of the passage, and then operating the hidden mechanism to close the opening. Filled with curiosity, he had let him go away and then tried it himself.

"What is this place?" he asked. "From the length of the stairway, it's way under the lake." He looked around. "And it looks even older than anything in the castle."

Hermione stayed silent. She didn't want to share any information with him, and she had precious little in any case. She closed the notebook and kept it close to her. She kept her wand ready as well. Draco noticed the gesture and sighed. He spread his hands in appeasement.

"I can understand that you're angry with me, but please don't think I would do anything aggressive," he added in a hurt voice.

_Why does she act with such fear? She was never like that before._

She felt a pang of shame at have thought exactly that. She lowered her wand slightly.

_Watch out girl. Don't forget that he's devious. He might not do anything out of spite, but if he thinks I hold knowledge that is important to him, then he might act anyway._

They glared at each other for a moment. Both of them annoyed by the situation.

_I mustn't let him become suspicious._

"How we found this place is none of your business, but believe me, I don't understand what it is for or how _that _works," she said finally, indicating the stone pillars.

Draco followed her gaze and walked toward them.

"It looks like a druidic circle," he said. "They are generally used for special ceremonies, and normally only at special times." He examined the markings on the ground and on the vertical surfaces.

"Yes," she answered, annoyed by the patronizing words. She knew very well how druidic circles were used. "Except that these are not normal druidic runes, and unlike any other circles that I know, this one is underground."

He nodded.

"I see what you mean. You can't look at the stars or the sun."

"Well technically the sun _is _a star," Hermione couldn't stop herself from correcting him.

Unexpectedly, he flashed her a smile.

"Now that sounds more like the Hermione I used to know," he teased. "Are we on speaking terms again?"

Her eyes flared with anger.

"I haven't changed!" she snapped. "And I haven't forgotten anything."

Draco made a visible effort to control his temper and to keep from returning a biting comment.

_You are really an insufferable bitch, and if it wasn't for Ginny, I would be more than happy to forget all about you._

He tried to ignore her and moved inside the circle. The center area was void of symbols and it seemed normal to be standing there. After a few seconds he could hear a very low buzzing sound.

"What is that sound?" he asked her.

"What do you mean? You're not doing anything are you?" she asked worriedly.

"I'm not doing a thing, but I hear a buzzing sound."

Her curiosity took the better of her reticence to be close to him. She walked into the circle and heard the hum he was talking about. It was faint but quite audible. They hadn't noticed it before, she was positive that they wouldn't have missed it.

"It got louder as you walked up," he said excitedly. "It must be coming from the pillars." He took out his wand.

"Careful with that!" she called out.

"I'm just going to give us some light. You can't see anything in here. _Lumos!_"

The ground seemed to lurch under their feet, and they suddenly cried out in surprise. The circle itself hadn't changed but everything else had. They were now outside, in a rugged hilly terrain of wild grass and scattered trees. The sky was overcast, and it there was a very light rain falling. The next thing that they noticed was a shocking sensation of cold. It took them a moment to register the fact that they were both unclothed. They didn't even have their wand in their hands.

"Eek!" screamed Hermione. She tried to cover herself clumsily and bolted behind one of the pillar.

"Draco! What happened?"

He was as surprised as her. One second he was casting the light spell, and the next it was as if their bodies, minus clothing, wands and everything else had been teleported here. He looked at his empty hand.

"I don't know! Even my family ring is missing."

"It's all your fault, you stupid bastard!" Her voice was hysterical. "You keep meddling with things that you don't understand and now this happens too."

"Hey, I didn't do anything! It's not my fault. Something happened."

"Of course it's your fault, you stupid bastard. I was studying things carefully, and then you barged in and ruined everything."

"Hermione-"

"Go away!" she screamed. "Get away from me! You're nothing but trouble."

He shivered and looked around. There wasn't anything to see except scruffy looking grass, trees and rocks, and the rain was _cold_. He decided to move out of the circle before something new could happen.

_Although it would be nice to be sent back to Hogwarts, but somehow I doubt it will be that easy._

He walked past the neared pillar and got a glimpse of a fleshy shape before Hermione screamed and moved away.

"Hey! Are you okay?"

"Of course I'm okay," she replied in a voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm frigging naked and freezing my bum in the rain, stuck in this dismal place with the dumbest wizard I ever met."

"I'M NOT OKAY, STUPIDHEAD!" she screamed in frustration.

It was too much for Draco.

"WELL THEN STUFF IT, SMARTASS!" he screamed. "If you had any brain, you'd realize that I didn't do anything you would probably have tried yourself, in which case you'd have ended here in the same state _but alone_." He took a deep breath and made an effort to speak reasonably. "As things stand, the two of us have a better chance of figuring out how to get back if we keep our head, _which you are not doing_."

He stopped and waited for her reply. A full minute passed. He could hear her teeth chattering, like his did. Looking at his bare arm, he could see that it was covered with goose bumps. Besides the freezing rain there was also a nasty little wind, which was stealing further warmth from them.

"All right," she finally said in a small voice. "What do you suggest we do?"

"First of all get out of this bloody rain. We've got to find some kind of shelter and, hum, coverings."

"Yes!"

He looked around.

"There's a big clump of trees on my left, and a little hill next to it. It looks like a good bet to me. Do you see anything better on your side?"

She looked right and left. She could make out the trees he was talking about.

"No. We might as well go for your trees."

Nothing happened for a moment.

"Hermione?"

"I... I can't," she said in a panicked voice. "You walk in front _and don't turn around!_"

"Hermione I can understand your modesty taboo, but we're talking survival, and you're not being reasonable. What happened to the logical girl?"

"Please. I need some time to get use to it," she pleaded.

He sighed loudly. She was really going to be a pain in the ass.

"Right, but you walk right behind me. If I get the idea that you're not following, then I'll turn around and look for you."

"Okay, let's go."

He started walking and heard her steps behind him. He winced as some small sharp pebbled cut into his bare soles, and he heard her cry out as well. After a moment she chuckled.

"What is it?" he asked, annoyed and now in a thoroughly bad temper. _What is she going to do next? giggle?_

"I think I'd rather find a pair of shoes than some knickers after all."

_Well that was the first smart remark she made._ Once again he forced himself to be calm and friendly.

"I know what you mean."

"We should be able to grow calluses after a while, but it will probably take weeks."

_Weeks? I hope we get rescued a lot sooner than that._

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Harry was just coming back from Hogsmeade. He had found only one book which had looked promising. A history about local legends from the time of Hogwarts' creation. He went directly to the kitchens. As he got near the secret passage, the smell of cooking awakened pangs of hunger. He made a detour to ask Dobby for something to eat. The Elf proposed bringing some down for Hermione as well. Laden with food for both mind and body, they descended the stairs together.

The first think Harry saw was the empty table where Hermione should have been working. He looked around for her, but the room looked to be empty.

"Hermione?"

The lighting was poor and maybe she was just in some shadows, but no one answered. They searched the area quickly but there was no trace of her. He was getting ready to go back up and look for her, when his eyes fell on what was on the stone circle.

Two piles of clothes lay in disorder. He moved closer and recognized Hermione's robe, notebook and wand. An icy feeling came over him.

"Something bad happened," said Dobby with fear in his voice.

Harry's brain was suddenly not working properly anymore. He kept looking at the pile of cloth, understanding what they were, but unable to go further than the fact that Hermione had evidently disappeared here. He didn't even wonder about the other pile.

_She's gone, but there's no blood, no signs of damage..._

He sensed panic closing on him and tried to fight it.

_I need help for this. If she's somewhere we should be able to reach out to her._

The six of them had been able to communicate at distance before, in the time when they were still united. Now that they were estranged, it was another thing they had lost.

_Luna! She would help me._

Luna's emphatic link might still be able to find her. With the two of them together, it could work.

"Dobby. Please stay here and make sure no one touches anything. Not one single thing!" The Elf nodded with big anxious eyes. "I'll be back."

_I've got to find Luna._

He rushed out and took the steps two at a time. The effort and the turning of the stairs made his head dizzy. He came out of the stairway panting. He paused to recover his breath and tried to think where Luna could be. Around that time, Ron would probably have been playing with the kids, and in this case she usually went to the library. He resumed his running, ignoring the rare students he passed in the corridors.

"Hey Harry. Where are you going?"

_Hermione's gone. I've got to find Luna._

He burst through the library door, stumbling against the door hinges. The witch at the take out desk immediately frowned at the noise he was making. She whispered a furious order for him to be quiet. He controlled himself to walk, not run, to the part where he knew Luna liked to sit. His heart was beating fast, from his exertions and from the anguish which was threatening to overwhelm him.

_Luna._

She was sitting at her table, her back turned to him but she wasn't alone. Ron and Ginny were across from her. Harry stopped dead. He didn't want to speak with his former friend, but if he wanted Luna to help him there was no other way.

Ron raised his head and frowned at seeing Harry. The now sickeningly familiar loathing was in his eyes, and a sneer already forming on his lips. Harry's stomach clenched.

_Hermione's gone, Ron hates me._

"Luna..." he began in a gagging voice. She turned around in surprise and Ginny looked up, her face blank but with a hint of concern in her eyes. "Hermione's-"

It was all he could say. He was frantically worried, and then being so close and seeing the anger and hatred on Ron's face, was suddenly too much. He felt the bile rising up his throat and a heave coming. Turning around quickly, he ran toward the library toilets, desperately trying to control his nausea and barely making it to a bowl before throwing up.

"Harry!" cried Ginny. She got up and rushed to catch up to him. "What's the matter? What is it with Hermione?" He was on his knees and leaning against the wall. She recovered a towel and held it out to him. Harry was panting and still queasy. He took the towel from her hand and wiped his mouth and face, tears of stress from his efforts were running down his face.

"Thanks."

He looked up at Ginny's anxious face. Her eyes were tired and puffed. Luna was right behind her.

"She ... disappeared," he mumbled. Ginny's eyes opened wide in shock. He turned to Luna. "Could we try to ... reach out and find her? Please?" he pleaded.

"Of course," said Luna kindly. "But maybe you could explain a bit more."

He looked at Ginny and hesitated. They had decided to keep this a secret, at least until they knew more.

_Hermione's more important you idiot._

"Harry, don't be stupid!" insisted Ginny. "If you need help we're there. If Hermione's in danger, what happened between us doesn't matter. You've got to tell us."

He nodded weakly.

"Yeah. You're right. I- I need to show you this place we found. Maybe it has something to do with this strange circle and pillars." He struggled to stand up. He felt a return of dizziness and closed his eyes. He was going to be okay. When he opened them, Ron was standing at the entrance, looking at them with a hard and unfriendly face.

"Ron, something happened to Hermione. We're going with Harry," announced Ginny in a decisive voice.

A flash of worry showed on Ron's face, soon replaced with resentment.

"What did you do this time?" he said to Harry who bristled immediately.

"This doesn't concern you," he replied coldly. He balled his fists. He was sure that if Ron said a word more, he would let him have it.

"That's enough!" snapped Luna. "And Ron, I think it's best that you don't say anything anymore."

Harry stood up and brushed against the other boy roughly to leave to room, the girls followed him. Ron was left seething in the doorway. After a moment, he went after them, muttering darkly to himself.

Richard had been lurking behind a bookshelf, and he had heard enough to understand that something important was cooking. Silena and Alicia had been in the library as well, and they were still at their table. He caught his sister's eyes and gestured for them to follow him.

They hooked up in the corridor leading toward the kitchens. Ron had just turned the far corner.

"What is it?" whispered Alicia.

"Harry's worried sick, literally, about Hermione. He asked the others to help him and he's leading them to a special place."

"Did they make up?" asked Silena.

"No. Not Ron and Harry in any case."

"Who are we following?"

"I think Ron's right behind them, so we'll follow him."

In due course they saw the older students open the passage and go inside. The two groups followed each other in silence. Ron was still seething as he thought about his former friends.

_They treat us like dirt, betray and insult us, and then we should help just because he asks. Who does he think he is?_

When the girls entered the chamber, Harry explained that they had been doing. Ron entered as well, but he kept his distance from the group. The others were ignoring him.

"How did you get here in the first place?" asked Ginny.

"We got a tip from the Goblins. I don't think the details matters much. We've been working on this since yesterday, and not getting anywhere." He gestured toward the circle. "I left Hermione here an hour ago, and when I came back she was gone, except for ..." he broke off and indicated the pile of clothes.

They approached and recognized Hermione's robe. Ginny also noticed the other pile.

"There are two sets here. There's another wand and something else ..."

"Careful Ginny!" called out Ron. "Maybe it's dangerous to get inside."

"We've walked on it several times before and nothing happened," said Harry.

"Maybe it's been activated by Miss know-it-all-"

Harry lunged at Ron, smashing his fist in his face, and feeling the satisfaction of finally working out his anger. The other boy grabbed him and they went rolling of the ground, striking out madly at each other.

"Harry, Ron! Stop it!" yelled Ginny. She and Luna intervened to separate them. When they stood up, Ron had a bleeding lip and Harry's glasses were broken.

"Get out of my sight you hateful bigot!" screamed Harry. "She was your friend, and even if you don't have any respect for her, you should at least shut up and leave us alone."

"I just said ..."

"Shut up Ron!" said Ginny. "That was a stupid and inconsiderate remark."

"That's right," added Luna. "Maybe you should leave us now."

Ron looked at her in stupefaction.

"Hey, whose side are you on?"

"I don't care for politics, and neither does Ginny anymore. I care about my friends. That's more important than anything, and I don't like your attitude." Luna's face was now anything but dreamy, it was hard and cold, like her voice, and Ron was evidently not used to it.

"Luna-" he started.

"Enough. You either shut up, or leave, or we throw you out. Do you understand?"

Ron was bewildered. He stepped back and said nothing. Luna turned around to examine the remains. Harry was still trembling with anger and grief, but Ginny had pulled him away and was whispering soothing words to calm him down. Ron looked at them and felt very much alone. His hand went to his lip and came away with a small drop of blood.

_Damn it! Harry and I had our bad days, but we've never hit at each other like that._

"The clothes are set up just as if the person was still dressed," announced Luna. "It's as if the body was teleported but nothing else. There's a ring next to the second pile." She picked it up. "Ginny. It looks like Draco's."

"What!" Ginny ran to her and examined the small object. There wasn't any doubt. She'd played often enough with it to recognize his ring. "DRACO!" she screamed and turned to Harry whose anxiety had redoubled.

"What happened here?" he said. "Did they ... fight?"

They turned to look closer at the two piles. Ron watched them and then he remembered that first time when they had rushed to Hermione's help. The day she had been cornered by the Troll in their first year. The start of their friendship. He saw Harry and Ginny and his expression softened as he gradually realized what they must be feeling. He walked up toward them and gently pushed Luna aside.

"We should be able to discover how they were positioned relative to each other from the disposition of all this. Move away. We mustn't disturb anything," he said. Harry started to frown but Luna's hand stopped him.

They looked at the piles again.

"It looks like they were facing toward this pillar," said Harry finally, indicating one the stone slab. He tried not to look at Ron. He told himself that the git was helping them, and anything was worth finding a way to get Hermione back.

"Yea," said Ron. "And Draco's right arm was extended more that the others. As if he had been casting a spell." He too, chose not to look at Harry.

"Could something from the pillar have attacked them?" asked Luna. "Made them disappear?"

"I never heard of a curse which removes the body and leaved the clothes untouched" said Ginny in a listless voice.

Harry placed his arm over her shoulder. She moved against him. There was a long silence. Ginny was staring at Draco's ring and her lips were trembling. Harry squeezed her closer and closed his eyes, his head touching hers. Ron's throat was tight.

"Ginny, I'm sorry..." he began.

He knew that he should address Harry as well, but some internal force was blocking him. For the first time, he thought that this was not normal. Luna had told him several times that his friend was sincerely convinced of the official version of what happened on the Quidditch pitch. He had replayed the event hundreds of times in his mind, and he didn't know what to think anymore.

_Kirke may be a bastard, but Harry never let me down._

Luna broke the silence.

"If they're still together, it should be possible to contact them." She looked at Ron and then at the others.

She was reminding them that there was still hope. Harry's eyes opened, and his gaze and Ron's finally crossed. They didn't speak but something passed between them, and now there was no animosity in their eyes, only hurt, disappointment and a little shame. Harry opened his mouth.

"Ron, please ..."

The anguish on his face was painful to watch. Ron felt it tear at his soul. _It's Harry damn it. He's calling on you._ He felt that something was tearing in his mind.

"Harry ..." There was something stuck in his throat.

Ron wasn't looking at him like an enemy anymore. Harry felt his resolve come back. He knew what he had to do.

"Let's do it together," he said. "Right now, all four of us." He let go of Ginny and extended his hand. "Ron, we'll work out something later. For now let's just try find them," he said.

Ron moved his own hand slowly.

"Please mate... I missed you," added Harry.

It was too much. Ron rushed to embrace his friend.

"And I missed you too!" he said sobbing. "Oh Harry..."

"I'm sorry mate!" Harry was holding him so tight he could hardly breathe.

"And I'm sorry too."

Ginny and Luna exchanged a moist look and joined them. The four of them stood together in silence for a while.

"Well, I'm glad that's over," whispered Silena from the cover of the stairway.

"Yeah," sniffed Alicia. "It's really moving."

Richard didn't say anything. He had a lump in his throat, and he didn't trust his voice yet. It was okay for girls to let their emotions show, but he was a Slytherin male, and he had a reputation to uphold.

Silena looked at him.

"Is it the light, or are your eyes wet?" she asked him candidly.

"It's the light," he answered gruffly. "And it's not over. They have to find out where Draco and Hermione are."

Alicia chuckled.

"If they're together without their clothes, maybe they got real cozy and made up already."

"Must be bloody embarrassing," he grunted.

"For whom?"

"Shut up."

- - -

_The other circle,_

They moved as quickly as possible towards the trees. At least the exercise was warming them a little. They didn't talk much, and each of them was lost in his private thoughts. Draco was thinking about camping and food. Whatever they could manage, it would certainly be much more primitive than his last outing in the wild. Hermione was trying to understand what could have happened. She also did her best to keep her eyes from looking at Draco's bare back. It didn't help her concentration.

_We've walked inside that circle dozens of times and I've copied every inscription without anything happening. Harry was with me several times so it's not a question of being alone, and we've also used the Lumos spell before. The only thing that changed was that humming sound, and casting the spell while being inside the circle._

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Did you direct the spell at a particular spot?"

He tried to remember exactly what he had done.

"Yes, I think my wand was aimed at one of the ... Don't move!"

He stopped brutally and she bumped into him and immediately recoiled in embarrassment. She was getting ready to berate him, when she saw what he was looking at and froze. The creature resembled a hyena except for a bright orange fur streaked with red. It had impossibly long legs, a pointed flat head with a nasty fangs filled mouth and very large eyes. It had been coming from behind the hill. When it saw them, it stopped and growled menacingly.

Hermione grabbed Draco's arm and they felt a familiar tug in their minds.

_Hermione, Draco, where are you?_

_It's Luna!_ thought Hermione.

_We're kind of busy right now, _answered Draco. _Please try back later._

He severed the connection and tried to concentrate on the immediate situation.

- - -

"I got a flash," said Luna.

She and the three others were sitting in a circle on the floor and holding hands. For several minutes they had been trying to establish contact without success.

"I didn't feel anything," said Ron. He looked at Ginny who shook her head, biting her lip.

"I felt something vague," said Harry. "A sense of cold and ... fear." He looked at Luna anxiously.

"The contact is broken," replied Luna, breathing deeply, "but I sensed them both." Harry and Ginny raised their head in hope. "That's the good news. The bad news is that they seem to be facing some sort of animal, a dog or a wolf, I couldn't make it out."

She looked at them soberly.

"We'll just have to wait until they can try and re-contact us. They'll be concentrating then, and we should be able to communicate better."

Harry and Ginny didn't say anything. Four grim faces looked at each other and waited.

- - -

Draco looked around for something to use as a weapon. There was a large stone to his right. He would have preferred a big stick, but anything would be better than his bare hands.

_This is not good._

There was something truly terrifying about fighting naked, more so against a wild animal. He didn't expect Hermione to amount for much in such a battle. With a wand, she was as deadly as anyone else, but hand to hand combat was not her style. Not for the first time, he wished for Ginny to be with him instead.

_Let's just hope she doesn't panic._

"It looks like a Running Night Devil," she murmured. "Supposed to be nocturnal and extinct. The eyes should be a weak spot."

_I should have remembered that she doesn't panic easily when it's really important._

"I'm impressed. I don't suppose we could outrun it in daylight?"

"Look at those legs, and I don't think it's called Running for no reason. It will be even more dangerous at night."

Draco pondered his choices. There weren't any good ones. He swallowed a lump of apprehension.

"I'm going to try and get that rock over there. It might help if you moved to the left. It could confuse it."

"R... right." Fear showed in her voice but she didn't hesitate. The creature immediately turned toward her, and she moved a little further away, crouching with both arms in front of her.

Draco moved in the other direction, toward the stone. When he got his fingers around it, he screamed a challenge, and the monster quickly turned around toward him. It was now between the two of them. Hesitating between the two adversaries and jumping back and forth.

_Merlin it's fast. _

He raised the stone and got ready to hit one of the big eyes. His left hand was poised to protect his lower belly. He was almost paralyzed with fear. This was going to be a butchery. The creature was moving toward him, and he noted absently Hermione closing behind it. It stopped a meter away from him and growled, looking for an opening. Draco tried to nerve himself when he saw Hermione extended her arm, palm upward and with all fingers but one curled in.

"_Stupefy!_"

A beam of light struck the animal and it froze. Draco didn't wait to understand what she'd done and struck at its head with all his might. He missed and it glanced on the side of the head, hitting the shoulder bones. There was a sickening crunch and blood flowed.

"Take out the eyes, quick!"

He struck at the right eye which squashed horribly. Overcoming the disgust he felt, he aimed at the other but the creature was already recovering. He didn't miss, quite, but the eye was undamaged.

Hermione was trying to launch another spell, but she couldn't manage it. It required too much concentration, and her whole hand was throbbing with pain. She had to help Draco while he still had some advantage. Without thinking she launched herself on the monster's back and tried to hamper his movement. Both of them crashed on the ground and Draco managed to hit the creature again. It was still weak from the spell, and its jaw seemed to be broken, but like them it was fighting for its life. The struggle continued for a moment, until Draco managed to crush its skull with a final blow, and then it lay still.

They were both panting, covered in blood and mud. He had a long gash on his leg from one of the creature's bite, and they had both several smaller scratches.

"You okay?" he asked between two deep breaths.

"Yeah, I think." She examined herself, noting absently that she wasn't bothered anymore about her nudity.

_Christ, we almost died here. That kind of thing changes one's priorities._

They were trembling with reaction. She remembered something else.

"I felt Luna's mind when I touched you."

"I felt it as well." He looked around. "This is not a good place, but perhaps we should try and let them know how things stand."

"Yes. It's probable better to sit down and hold hands."

They did that and tried to relax their minds. It was not easy, but suddenly they felt the others' presence, and then it was a storm of competing thoughts.

_Harry!_

_Ginny!_

_What happened?_

_Where are you?_

_Calm down all of you!_ came Luna's strong thought. _Let's have it one at a time. Hermione you first._

She explained rapidly what had happened, skipping most details. Draco took over.

_We're ok but if we stay longer in this rain we're going to catch pneumonia, so the best thing is to try and contact you later, when we'll have a shelter._

_All right _replied Harry, _but don't go too far from the circle. We'll try to find a way to get you back and Luna will be listening in case you need to contact us._

After a last exchange they broke the contact. Hermione and Draco closed their eyes and didn't say anything for a while. The fight and the relief of knowing that their friends were aware of the situation had exhausted them.

She looked at him.

"Your leg doesn't look good. We should clean it out before it gets infected."

He examined the wound. It wasn't too deep but there were traces of mud and foam from the monster's saliva. The rain was heavier now. He extended his leg to let the water wash it.

"That's not going to be good enough." She looked at him seriously. "You should pee on it."

"WHAT?"

"Urine is a good natural disinfectant. It's salty and basically sterile as far as you are concerned."

"Are you crazy?"

She sighed.

"Believe me it works. Well I haven't tried it of course, but it was a standard Muggle trick for some wild tribes."

He looked at her carefully, trying to see if she was putting him on. She held his gaze without flinching.

"You can trust me. I've been a scout, and I've also read all about that survival stuff."

He still didn't budge.

"I'll turn around if you want," she added. "I'll start on recovering the fur. We'll need it."

"Yeah, you do that," he said after a moment.

He walked to the side and endeavored to do as she suggested.

_Crazy Muggles. They're even weirder than you can think._

He managed to produce a weak stream and stifled a cry as the salty fluid came into contact with the raw wound. That with the rain seemed to clean it all right. He returned toward where she was squatting to skin the creature with the sharp edge of the stone. It was a rather sexy sight. He quickly averted his eyes and tried to think about something else.

"Can I help?"

"Yes. You pull here, and I'll cut the adherences."

It was the most disgusting work they had ever done, but they managed to recover a large surface of bloody fur. It was badly ripped in places, and there were some grisly remains attached here and there, but it was something they could use.

"Do you think we should get some of the meat?" he asked.

"It's a carnivore, so the meat is not going to be very good. But we could recover some of the fat to protect ourselves from the cold." She wondered about sinews and gut to make to some rope, but that was beyond her skill, and she didn't have to stomach for it in any case.

"For burning?"

"No. To spread on ourselves."

"Yuck!"

She looked at him severely.

"We're not talking about civilized comfort. We could be stuck here for days or worse. If one of us gets sick, it could well be over for both of us."

Draco sighed. She was right as usual when it came to practical matters, and it was as annoying as ever. Still for the first time, he was really glad that she was with him, because it looked like all her knowledge was paying off.

He gestured toward the fur.

"You can dress yourself in that now."

She grimaced and blushed. The pelt was barely large enough for them to cut two crude loincloths. The little practical voice in her mind told her that if they got into a fight, he would need protection more than her. She cut it as best as she could and gave him the biggest half. They didn't have anything to attach it, so they had to use one hand to keep it in place.

"I'm sorry I was such a prude, but I do feel better now." She grinned at him and he grinned back.

Hermione showed him how to cut out fatty layers from the corpse, there wasn't much in any case, and they coated themselves with it, including their hair. The smell was awful, and it made a soapy and gritty mix with the water and the mud, but they did feel a little warmer, and the rain didn't cling as much.

They resumed walking toward the woods. The first thing they looked for were vines to make rudimentary belts out of. After some exploration, they finally found a protected area where a large tree had fallen against a small earth mount. Using branches and some bark, they managed to close off one side and make rough dwelling. With moss and large leaves, they could isolate themselves from the cold ground. Hermione recovered some more or less dry wood. She made a small pile with the smallest twigs and pointed her finger.

"_Incendio!_"

The wood burst into fire. Draco looked at her hand with wonder.

"I didn't know you could do wandless magic," he said admiringly.

"I got the idea after the ... kidnapping," she replied in a quiet voice. She shivered and he placed his arm around her in an automatic gesture of comfort. "I swore to myself that I was never going to be stuck into such a _powerless_ situation again." She shrugged. "I can only do it for very simple spells, and it takes a great deal of concentration."

"You amaze me. Could you teach me?"

She hesitated. It was a secret which could save her life, and even if Voldemort was gone, Draco's other _friends _inspired her as much trust as the Death Eaters.

_I'm being paranoid._

"It's... complicated," she finally said.

He sensed her reticence and didn't push it.

"It's okay. I can still thank you for saving my ass out there, literally."

She chuckled.

"I think I saved both our asses, and so did you."

He acknowledged that silently.

_We're a good team._

The thought was painful. They _had been_ a superb team before their falling out. His opinions hadn't really changed, but the reality of their broken friendship was something that was becoming more and more unbearable.

"Whatever. You really did very well."

Some of the frustrations of the past weeks came back to her, and she lashed out.

"Not bad for a mudblood, hey?"

"Hermione!" She felt him tense and he released her. It was almost as she had struck him. He moved away, and she immediately missed the warmth of his contact.

"I've never thought that about you since we came together." She sensed the genuine hurt in his voice. "I know I was a git before that, but I haven't changed back. Not even since our ... disagreement."

She was a little ashamed of herself, but she'd kept so much bottled up for so long that saying these things was a needed relief.

"Maybe you don't think it, but some of your friends probably do."

He sighed.

"Hermione I know you don't like some decisions which they have made, but you don't really know them."

"Oh, but I do," she replied softly. "Wizards or Muggles we're all human beings, and we have the same weaknesses." She gestured at his leg. "How does your wound feel?"

He looked at it. It wasn't pretty to look at, but it didn't hurt a lot.

"It seems all right."

"Don't you think you'll be colder if it were not for my idea of covering ourselves with goo?"

"Yes but what has this got to do-"

"Draco, there are _billions_ of Muggles and they've been around for _thousands_ of years. They've gone through millions of situations, hundreds of governments. That's _experience_, and I've read about this. I know what terrible consequences your friends will provoke."

"You've read books," he objected. "It's not really the same."

"Books about power and people, written by historians, scholars, people who've analyzed this." She paused. "I can tell you what they're doing."

He showed curiosity and she looked at him earnestly.

"First it's some little law that discriminates against a minority, and then something further along that line. Trouble happens, people become angry and the minority gets blamed, and it suffers more discrimination. Trust breaks down and fewer people cooperate."

He grimaced. She continued with a toneless voice.

"Things go from bad to worse, and before you know it, the government votes a state of national emergency and grants itself more power."

Draco controlled his expression but inside he was shocked. The minister hadn't announced anything yet, but Trevor had discussed this very measure if Bones and her friends didn't stop their opposition.

"Discontent mounts, and it only goes one way in a vicious circle," continued Hermione. "More and more people are imprisoned, even killed until the dictatorship fails, usually after a bloody war."

Draco could sense that she was sincere. He didn't know if she was right or not, but he would not underestimate her.

"Hermione, I swear by all I hold sacred, that I don't want something like that to happen," said Draco feelingly. "If it ever comes to that I will fight it."

_Hasn't it already happened? Merlin I don't know what to think anymore._

She gave him a sad look.

"Maybe you don't want it to happen, but you helped them start it, and you would prevent others from stopping them."

"I can't accept that," he objected. "The goals we discussed are noble. We want to _prevent_ that kind of trouble. We want to prevent the possibility of another Voldemort." He had to make her understand that it wasn't just a question of power.

"It doesn't matter how pure your goals are. They are dangerous. There's a Muggle saying: 'The road to Hell is paved with good intentions'. You're creating conditions for the worst of human nature to come out."

He shook his head. She went on.

"Like you, I can swear by all that I hold sacred, that I am certain that what you are doing will bring tragedy. There is no doubt in my mind. That is why I must fight you."

Hearing those words troubled him deeply. He had been prepared to argue, but the idea of them fighting each other was something else again.

"Do you hate me that much?" he asked softly.

Hermione remembered Harry's assurance that Draco had been manipulated, that it was some kind of a trap. She wasn't fully convinced. Part of her desperately wanted to believe, but another voice was telling her of the risk of letting her guard down, and that she was the last one to realize the danger they were facing. She choked back a sob.

"I don't hate you! Harry and I had friends that we loved dearly and we've lost them."

She cried silently. He reached out his arm toward her.

"I still want to be your friend," he said softly.

She didn't move. Her face was streaked with tears and dirty with mud, but her eyes were bright and eager.

"So do I!"

"Then why do we have to fight?" he asked.

"Because we don't believe in the same things."

"I don't think that the things we believe in are so different," he said gently. "I did what I felt was right, and I guess that you're doing the same."

She nodded. He grinned.

"Anyway, it's not like politics counts for much right now."

She laughed through her tears.

"No. It sure doesn't."

"So can we forget about it for the night?" His arm was still extended and inviting. She moved in and snuggled against him.

"I'd like that, yes."


	29. Chapter 28 Rescue

_Their friends attempt to get Hermione and Draco back. (Warning: Mild sexual reference - but not what you probably think.)_

* * *

_**Chapter 28 - Rescue**_

_Hogwarts,_

Harry, Ron, Luna and Ginny had been feverishly trying to find information on teleporting stone circles and any other similar phenomena. They did it alone, since neither Remus nor Snape were available. Remus was away with Tonks, and no one knew where Snape was. Nobody wanted to involve the other teachers yet.

They had made another distant contact where Hermione had explained her theory about the triggering action, and she and Draco had agreed to come back to the stone circle at daybreak. Both of them also warned about an unusual sense of power during the transfer, urging their friends to be cautious. The suggestion of trying an analysis spell, without entering the circle, had been proposed but judged too risky. Harry and Ginny hadn't pushed it, but they privately vowed to do it themselves if nothing else worked.

Unknown to them, Silena, Alicia and Richard had been listening to everything, and they were also searching for a solution. Since they didn't have any knowledge of higher magic, or druidic lore, they were falling back on pure logic, like with the riddles the Weasley twins had arranged for them. Unlike their friends, they hadn't heard any warnings on how dangerous such relics could be. Because of this, they went directly for the simplest answer. After dinner, they retired to their usual hideout behind the cupboard and armor, and they discussed the problem.

"From what I understand, only living matter can be transported," said Richard.

"So what?" asked Alicia. "We could send them some living food but what they really need are their wands, or at least tools."

"Maybe we could try and send a flying beast?" proposed Silena. "A Hippogriff, so that they could ride on it."

"It doesn't seem very practical, and I don't know where we could find one."

"Ask a teacher?"

"We're not supposed to know anything. It would get back to professor Snape, and my backside is sore enough as it is." He winced at the memory.

"We could at least experiment with small animals," proposed Alicia. "You know, send them a mouse, and they could try to send them back."

"How? They'd need a wand to activate the transfer," Richard pointed out.

"Oh!" Alicia was disappointed. Hermione's wandless magic had not been mentioned, so they didn't realize that part of the solution was already available.

"Hey! What about a wand placed _inside_ living matter?" he said suddenly excited.

"Yes! That might not work, but we could test it easily."

"And even if it worked, we'd have to find an animal big enough to swallow one," said Richard pensively. It didn't look too practical either.

"Why not a plant," proposed Silena. "Plants are alive." They looked at her with amazement.

"Brilliant!" he said. She swelled with pride. "Okay, so we could send them one of our wands."

"It would get left behind" countered Alicia. "That might be awkward."

"Would a fake wand work?" asked Silena.

"Another good idea," said Richard. Alicia rolled her eyes but said nothing. "We still have some of Fred and George's left." They talked about it a little more and ultimately decided on a detailed plan. It looked good enough to them, so that they wanted to push it as far as they could before going to Harry and the others.

"All right," said Richard. "Now, we know what we need. Let's go to the greenhouse to select some likely plants and tomorrow we go down there as early as possible to test this."

Their older friends had spent hours in the library, only leaving it when they were thrown out at curfew. They'd continued working on the problem until late into the night, but they couldn't find any hint on how to control the circles. They finally gave up when Luna convinced them to get some rest. Harry and Ginny were totally exhausted, but even then sleep did not come easy.

- - -

_The other circle,_

Draco and Hermione didn't sleep well either. Despite the fire, it was very cold and far from comfortable. They huddled against each other for warmth. Sometimes they would talk, but all so often their discussion would touch upon a touchy subject and die in silence. The night passed in fits of uneasy slumber and half conscious periods.

Some time before daybreak, Draco woke up, and he knew that he wouldn't get back to sleep. He found that Hermione was clinging tightly to him and muttering indistinct words in her dreams. He tried to ignore it, but at one point she called out Harry's name and she moved her hand along his side. The gesture decided him to get up. He disengaged himself as carefully as he could, and went to put some logs into the fire which was almost done. Hermione began to moan and shiver, but she fell silent when the warmth increased a little.

It was still dark so he didn't try to walk around. The flames would protect them from any roaming beasts, at least he hoped so. He kept the bloody stone and a large stick at hand in any case. Draco sighed. Hearing her speak Harry's name reminded him of Ginny. He wondered what still remained between them, supposing that they managed to get back of course. Those thoughts were not pleasant, but then nothing in his life was.

- - -

_Forbidden Forest,_

The atmosphere at the camp was sober. Many faces were grim, and it was not even necessary to look at the Centaurs to understand that something was wrong. One had only to listen. Instead of calling out cheerfully to each other, most of them whispered worriedly in little groups, or muttered dark predictions about an uncertain future. The reason for this was the terrible news that Lyman had brought back. The Shrine did not respond anymore, not even when a Pure One was present. This had never happened before and no one knew what to do, not even the Herd Mentor.

Without the Shrine, the Herd was doomed. They had interrogated the heavens, but the stars were muddled. They showed confused battles with unseen forces, terrifying visions of Centaurs attacked and torn apart by demons and curses. Many thought that the humans were somehow to blame. Bane was sure of it, but Lyman and some of the wisest counseled caution, and they had proposed asking the Pure Ones for help before deciding anything rash. Besides, what could be done? The Humans were much more numerous, and they had powerful weapons. The Herd would only be destroyed faster. Some listened, but even among Centaurs, there were those who preferred a glorious death to cautious thinking.

Contacts had been taken anyway, and a troop of Unicorns arrived at the camp in the early morning. Their soft and soothing thoughts restoring a measure of calm among their troubled cousins. A meeting was held but there wasn't much to discuss. The Pure Ones seemed almost detached. Yes, they were willing to assist the Herd Mentor in restoring the enchantments, but they could not guarantee that it would work. If it didn't, well then, the Centaurs would simply have to move to another circle, or accept their fate.

It was not a very satisfactory answer, but there was hope, and the Centaurs felt they had no one else to turn to. Firenze wanted to call upon Dumbledore for help, but Bane forbade him to, and the majority of the Herd stood behind their leader. It was inconceivable to let humans learn of these secrets. A new expedition to the Shrine was immediately arranged, with enough Centaurs and Pure Ones to reconstruct the Shrine's magic. Bane barked out orders for them to be ready to leave in an hour's time, and the Centaurs dispersed. As he was moving out toward his hut, Lyman spotted Laurell going away in another direction. He would have liked the ancient sage to be with them, or failing that to speak some more with him, but the Unicorn was in a hurry to go elsewhere.

_I have another duty._

"Give me a word, Oh Purest One," said Lyman. "I see only danger, and I fear for our Herd."

He would never be so tactless as to ask for a precise prediction, even though the Pure Ones were masters in that art. Both of them were aware that exact knowledge of the future was more terrible than death. It took away surprise and hope, and reduced one's life to waiting for the inevitable. The Unicorns could read the future at will, but over the millennia, they had evolved both the control to _not look_, and a fatalist philosophy to accept what they couldn't fail to see.

But Lyman was terribly worried, not for himself, for he was old and his life had been a full one, but for the young Centaurs he couldn't help anymore. He only wanted a little glimpse of what was coming. A jewel of truth that he could hold on to, while the world around him was breaking apart. Laurell looked at the Herd Mentor. He recalled the life of the gruff, hard tasking but caring teacher, remembering the countless times he had felt him awakening a young foal to adulthood. He opened his Inner Sight and saw the Centaur's future in a short and tragic vision, and he also got an inkling of the secondary consequences. He did not feel pity or joy, or even sadness. The world was not something to judge. It simply _was_. There was no choice except to accept it. However, he could select the best words to describe it.

_You have, and will do well, my friend._

Lyman heard the epitaph in his mind. He knew right then that the Pure One was talking about his death. At first, the certain finality was terrifying, and then a great peace came upon him. He did not know how or when it would happen. There was every chance that his existence would end soon, and probably brutally, but he would do well, and he had lived a purposeful life. Truly, what could be better than to hear such a confirmation? And such a promise? He inclined his head and expressed his gratitude.

Laurell turned and trotted away. Lyman stayed still a moment, and then he went to his hut to prepare, even more carefully that he usually did. He looked at everything as if it was the last time he would see it. He took his best bow, the one he truly considered a masterpiece. It was light and yet powerful. A beautiful weapon made of golden wood. Holding it in his hand, he could feel the perfect balance. He selected the rest of his equipment with the same care, including the Unicorn horn relic. It would probably not be necessary, they would have the real thing with them, but he felt that it was fitting for him to take all the trappings of his charge. Laurell had said he would do well. He would aim for perfection.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

At first light, Silena, Alicia and Richard recovered their equipment and slipped quietly into the secret passage. They had found several long eggplants and a type of potted flower with very large leaves, which would be perfect for writing messages on. They entered the room cautiously, but the others had not arrived yet.

"All right, let's get to it," whispered Richard. "Alicia you start writing on that big leaf, meanwhile we'll work on hiding one of the wands in the eggplant."

They work quickly and disposed all the stuff inside the circle. One plant contained a fake wand, another one had the message with explanations carved on it, and they had provided several others smaller marked pots to test the return transfers.

Richard was taking position on the other side of the circle, outside of the perimeter and careful not to touch the stone. He aimed his wand at the pillar which Draco had activated.

"Are you sure it's that one?" asked Alicia.

"Of course I'm sure," he answered testily. "We've seen them refer to it several times." He took a deep breath and raised his wand again.

"Wait a minute."

"What is it now?" he said in an exasperated voice.

"Don't you think you should try it with a fake wand? If they don't work, we'd better know it fast."

He grimaced at not having thought about it before.

"Er, yeah, right." He stored his wand away and took out of the fakes. It was only good for showing colored lights but it was real magic nonetheless.

"_Lumos!_"

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN HERE!" screamed Harry from the passage.

The three children jumped and yelped in surprise. Harry marched toward them looking ready to kill, and Richard took a step back involuntarily. Ginny and Ron came in the room and scowled at them.

"We're only trying to help," explained Silena in a quivering voice.

"What do you know about-" snapped Harry in a menacing voice. Luna stopped him.

"Calm down a minute, Harry," she said gently. "Let them explain themselves first."

Richard was trembling with fear, he'd never seen Harry like this and he fervently hoped that they hadn't made a terrible mistake. The three of them took turn detailing what they had done and planned. Ginny groaned inwardly. They had taken no precautions at all. All eyes then turned toward the stone circle. The only things on it were a number of clay pots filled with earth.

"It bloody worked," whispered Ron.

"What did you say in the message?" asked Luna.

"We told them to get the wands out of the big eggplant, and to use them to send away one plant for each of the pillars," answered Alicia.

"We figured each pillar corresponds to a unique destination, and that there's a good chance that one gets back here," added Richard.

"The plants are numbered, and they are supposed to try it clockwise from the outgoing pillar," finished Silena.

Luna smiled.

"That's very ingenious, but we can communicate with them more directly. Let's try and see how they are doing."

It was straightforward work from there on. Draco and Hermione found the plants and the wand, and it only took them a few minutes to work out what the return pillar was. Everyone held their breath but suddenly the two students materialized inside the circle.

Harry rushed to embrace Hermione, and wrap a robe around her, while Ginny did the same for Draco. The two were very hungry and tired, and they looked filthier than seemed possible, but everyone was immensely relieved.

Harry turned toward the three youngsters. He still remembered the terrible worry.

"I don't know what you deserve more: a record detention or a reward," he said severely.

Richard looked back defiantly and stood his ground. Now that everything was all right, he wasn't afraid.

"I think we'd have done the same thing in their shoes," admitted Hermione. "At the very least we should say thank you."

"Can you guess what professor Snape would do?" said Draco.

"To us or to you?" shot back Silena. He looked shocked.

"I do think she's got you there," said Luna, smiling.

"How about letting go and having some breakfast?" proposed Ron.

"Prefect bathroom first," corrected Hermione. "I may need to bathe for a week to get rid of this dirt and crass."

Draco gaped at her.

"Speak for yourself." He turned to the others. "You wouldn't believe the things she had me do. I'll tell you all about it. After eating," he added. Hermione looked daggers at him. "Okay, okay," he admitted. "It wasn't all bad ideas." He noticed Harry and Ron grinning at each other as they watched the by-play. "Hey, are you too speaking to each other again?"

Ron hesitated.

"Yes," said Harry firmly. He frowned at Alicia, who was batting her eyelashes and looking stupidly at him, and then considered the others. "Listen, perhaps we should have a quiet talk the six of us." Draco grunted and didn't quite look back at him.

"First things first. Let's wash and dress," he said gruffly.

Ten minutes later they were in the prefect bathroom lobby, waiting for Hermione and Draco to finish. They had to threaten the younger kids to keep them from following them.

"It's unfair," exclaimed Alicia. "You're always keeping secrets from everybody."

"You're kids," said Ron in an exasperated voice. "You don't have every right, you know. You're still first years."

"We were old enough to save the day," pointed out Richard.

"And if you shared more with us we wouldn't have to sneak in all the time," added Silena. Richard threw her a warning look, but it was too late.

"So you admit that you do sneak," noted Ginny menacingly.

"Er, no! We don't really ..." stammered Richard.

Harry found himself smiling at them. They were exactly as he remembered being with Ron and Hermione.

_And they did save the day._

"All right," he said firmly. "I admit that did us a big favor, and that we owe you one. We'll think about it, and we'll join you in the hall in a moment, but now you will please leave us alone."

They didn't care to argue, and they took the out that Harry gave them. He chuckled at seeing them run down the stairs.

"Remember being their age, Ron?" he murmured.

"Are you kidding? We were bloody civilized compared to those scoundrels. Did you know that Fred and George have been teaching them tricks?" He said that as if he was outraged, but if was just for show. His eyes had been following them with unmistakable affection.

Harry was preparing to answer him when he saw Luna's serious face.

"Harry," she said. "I'm glad we got Draco and Hermione back, and that you and Ron are friends again, but I would really like to resolve our arguments once and for all."

"What do you mean?" said Hermione coming out, wrapped in a towel. She took her clean clothes and went behind a curtain to dress.

"We've been fighting among ourselves instead of looking for the real cause of our troubles," said Luna. "This is the time to put an end to it and rebuild our group like it was."

Hermione was a little reserved. Draco came out of the stalls at that point. They looked at each other guardedly and Hermione felt all the tension returning. Doubts and suspicions floated in the air like a bad odor.

"Do you think it's possible?" she said softly.

"Of course it's possible," said Luna firmly. "All we have to do is put our friendship above those bloody political ideas." Hermione and Draco both turned to speak and she interrupted them. "We didn't need principles to be together before and defeat Voldemort. We had respect and love for each other, and that was the important thing. Hermione, Draco didn't turn evil overnight. He's still the decent man who joined us. And you Draco, you should trust your friends more than those other people."

She looked at them both and there was a real fire in her eyes. This was not the demure and passive Luna they were used to.

"We're all good people. How we care is more important than what we think," she finished.

"She has a point," said Harry resolutely. "The problem is not among us. It comes from outside. We've let ourselves get caught up in it, but that's wrong. It's trying to ruin us and we mustn't let it."

"Are you going to bring up all that stuff about Trevor again?" growled Draco. Harry raised his hand and shook his head.

"I don't want to consider anybody specifically, not right now. But we've received some disturbing information, and then there is this fact to take into account. Together we are very powerful, but when we are divided, we're really just a bunch of students."

He could see that they were listening.

"And this is even true for Dumbledore and the Order," he added. "If they can show us supporting them it gives them a big boost, conversely if they can't, then people wonder why and distrust them." That got a wince out of Ginny and Draco.

Ron was beginning to follow that train of thought.

"You think that maybe this was ... planned somehow?"

Draco shot him a hard look, but somehow that idea didn't feel so wrong.

_It does make sense. We where certainly neutralized. Except for that election. Was it just bad luck?_

They looked at each other silently.

"I swear that we never planned for anything like that," said Draco earnestly but defensively. He and Harry looked at each other and at Hermione.

"There is one way to get rid of all the suspicions," said Harry slowly.

The others knew it too. A full rapport and merging of consciousness. They would open their minds to each other, and nothing would be hidden. Harry saw Hermione throw him a marked look and he knew what she was thinking. They would have to share all the secrets they'd hoarded these past weeks.

"Mione," he said. "Luna is right. It's got to stop. Whatever the result is, it can't be worse than the way we've been tearing at each other."

Luna opened her arm to indicate that she was ready to do it. Harry took her hand and reached out for Hermione's. She hesitated but stepped in. Ron joined her. Ginny stepped forward and looked at Draco.

She didn't have anything to say. He looked at them, and he knew that at this moment, everything was in the balance. What he would decide in the next few seconds would change everything. The choice was Trevor and Shrummer on one hand, and his friends on the other. There was no middle ground anymore.

They were all looking at him. The only real and true friends he had ever known. He looked at Ginny. He would never love another girl as much as he cared for her. Even Salazar Slytherin had finally chosen friendship over principles and ambition. He stepped forward and took Ginny's hands. The look on her face was like the rising sun.

They formed a circle and sat on the floor. Closing their eyes, they merged into Luna's emphatic field. The first thing that they did was open their hearts to each other, reaching out and expressing feelings and intentions more than facts. And then they saw was that none of them had truly worked against the others, except in minor matters or by accidents. It was important to know that they'd all acted in good faith, terrible mistakes had been obviously been made, but that mattered less than willful actions.

One after the other, they shared the high points of everything which happened. They didn't dwell on the details, and in any case the current form of their merging was not well adapted for that kind of communication. It had started in such a highly emotional manner that they felt light headed and almost detached. It was difficult to think clearly and precisely. They sensed from Luna that she was doing this on purpose, since it made it easier for them to express some things, especially for Draco and for Hermione. Past pain and errors appeared as abstract and impersonal concepts, and there felt no impulses to argue, or to blame anyone.

_You sent Dobby at Boocrat? What is that other castle?_

_We haven't even looked at that. We were too keen to see Hogwarts' circle._

_What's Comil got to do here?_

_Dumbledore! What is he doing?_

Draco and Ginny were confused by the new information. They all agreed to discuss it later. Ron and Harry looked at each other's perspective of the Quidditch accident. Something was strange there but likewise, true intentions were what mattered, and the hatred was forgotten.

One of them had no specific information to share, but her message was overwhelming.

_I love you all_ thought Luna. _I don't want this to ever happen again._

They could all feel her unqualified affection for them all individually, whatever their strengths and their flaws. They responded in kind. It was incredibly comforting, and for a long moment, they basked in it as if it was a tub of warm and soothing water. They had found each other again and nothing else was really important.

_I love you as well but I'm hungry, _expressed Ron after a while.

Their rapport dissolved in a mixture of amusement and good natured exasperation. They opened their eyes to find Hermione chuckling at Ron. He sported a large grin, and Ginny lost her seriousness and stuck out her tongue at him. They stood up. They were back in the real world, but after such an experience, there was something more. They kept close to each other, something touching fleetingly, as they moved out and descended toward the great hall.

It was still very early in the morning. Oblivious to them, a few early risers noticed that the six friends were together once again, and they whispered the news among themselves in low voices. None of them dared to approach them. The diehards were worried about the possible consequences, but those who had been part of the neutral majority were smiling at what they saw as a good omen. Silena and the Parkers had reserved a large space at one of the table. Alicia spotted them first and nudged her brother, remarking on the new attitude between them.

Ginny sat next to a beaming Silena. Rolls, cups and pitcher of pumpkin juice were passed around and it developed into a normal breakfast.

"Have you decided?" asked Richard.

"Decided what?" said Hermione.

"What we're going to get for helping you out, of course," he said. "Harry promised," he insisted.

"Did he?" She controlled a smile. "Well in that case, I suppose that he'll take care of it."

"Hum," said Harry. "We could get you a king size selection of treats from Honeydukes." He caught the frown on Hermione's face. "Er, and something useful too."

"Yes, how about an invisibility cloak?" proposed Richard, all excited. "Now that'd be real useful ... oops."

Hermione gave him a very hard look which showed clearly that she didn't think so.

"How about, I spent a couple of hours every week, in private tutoring to help you get better grades?" she said sweetly.

"Er..." Richard showed panic. Harry tried hard not to burst out laughing at their faces. "Great, yeah. But we really wouldn't want to trouble you for that. I mean you're all so busy and all ..."

"Not at all. I'd be honored," she insisted.

Alicia threw a pleading look at Harry who took pity on them.

"Mione, that's really cruel," he said. "I have a better idea. How about a racing broom for each of you?"

That got their attentions. The three heads turned as one toward him.

"First years are not allowed to have their own brooms," said Hermione, quoting the relevant school rule.

"They wouldn't keep it here. Easter vacation is coming up and they could practice at the Burrow or at Grimauld."

Silena was ready to scream with joy, but Richard gestured for her to be quiet. They wouldn't have a say in this. It would only depend on Harry convincing Hermione.

"Racing brooms are dangerous," she insisted. "They're really too young for this."

"Nimbus has some models with extra safety features for young players," he countered. "Come on Mione. Ron and I will make sure that they learn to fly properly."

Hermione could see the glint of pleasure in his eyes, and she knew the others would also agree to the idea. She decided to accept his suggestion, but she made a point of pausing before speaking. She looked severely at the three youngsters who waited upon her word, completely still and hardly breathing. She turned toward Harry.

"I'm counting on you to be responsible for their safety." She looked at the children. "If I ever discover that you've taken a foolish risk, _on brooms or elsewhere_, I will confiscate them. Is that clear?"

They all raised their right hand and spoke with one voice.

"Yes, Hermione."

"Thanks, Hermione," said Alicia, embracing her, immediately followed by Silena.

"Thank you very much, Hermione," said Richard in a dignified voice. "I assure you that your trust will not be misplaced."

Hermione bit her lip to keep herself from laughing and nodded soberly. She turned toward Harry and rolled her eyes. The three youngsters started off, whispering excitedly among themselves about what kind of model they could expect.

_There's going to be a hunt for the latest Quiddich catalogue pretty soon, _Harry thought.

He turned to check if the others had been following the conversation, but he found that Ginny was looking at Draco with a dreamy expression and a tender smile on her face. It was actually embarrassing to watch. Draco didn't seem quite aware of the rest of the assembly either. Without saying a word, they suddenly stood up and walked quickly away, holding hands.

Harry turned toward Hermione who had been following them with her eyes as well. She waited until they were gone.

"They have a lot to catch up," she murmured. He raised a questioning eyebrow and she added. "It's been pretty hard for her. She was really torn between the two sides, and I think she kept Draco more that a little ... frustrated."

"Did he tell you that?"

She shrugged.

"We talked a little." She saw Harry's smirk, and she knew what he was thinking. "Watch your thoughts, Mister Potter."

He smiled.

"I can imagine that. The two of you, bare-assed in the wilderness, huddled against each other to keep warm."

"He was the perfect gentleman," she protested.

"And you were the perfect lady."

"Of course." Hermione looked severely at him.

"Next time, I'll go with you. I have a couple of ideas on how to fight the cold at night."

She chuckled and her gaze fell on Luna who seemed to have some trouble breathing.

"What's the matter with her?"

He looked in the same direction, and he saw that Luna's face was flushed, as if she'd been exerting herself. Come to think of it, he too felt abnormally warm. He turned toward Hermione and felt a sudden burst of desire. His heart began to beat harder and it took him a moment to understand what was happening.

_Ginny and Draco are making love and we're still linked together. It's going to affect us all! _

He tried to speak to Hermione, but he found that he was gasping for air himself. The look on her face showed that she felt it as well, and the sensation of warmth was intensifying. Not only that that, but he was also becoming uncomfortably aroused.

_This is damn embarrassing, we're in the great hall for Christ' sake! _

"Try deep breaths," mumbled Hermione. He gave her one look and quickly turned away. The sight of her chest heaving with her respiration was more than he was able to stand. He heard some commotion and he guessed that Ron and Luna had left the table in disarray. He could hear them running along the hall. He kept his eyes fixed on the table.

_Please don't let anybody talk to me right now, at least not a teacher!_

He tried Occlumency, but it wasn't good for controlling those kinds of feelings.

"Hey Harry!"

_Damn! _It was Colin's voice. Of all people to address him. _At least it's not Cho._ He forced himself to turn toward him, then he suddenly realized something else. _No, not Colin! It'll be even worse!_

"I haven't seen you all week end. Been busy?" asked the boy his usual cheerful voice.

"Yeees," managed to say Harry, desperately trying to control himself. Whatever was happening with Draco and Ginny, it was pretty strong, and he could only hope it would not last too long.

"You all right? You look kind of strange."

"M' fine." He smiled, which was not hard to do. He had never really notified how handsome Colin was. _No! Don't think about that! _"Just a little ... stomach ache..." _Definitely not the stomach area._ He squirmed. He had to adjust his position _now_.

"I'm glad to see that you six have made up," continued Colin. He frowned. "You have made up?"

_Oh yeah, we made up all right. You have no idea. Oh my God!_

He didn't trust himself to speak, so he just nodded while biting his lips. His hands were clenched on the table.

"Good." Colin was looking at him with a concerned expression. He turned toward Hermione and saw that she was as distressed as Harry. Her face was shiny with perspiration.

"Hey, Hermione, you don't look so good yourself. Could it be something you've eaten?"

_Colin you're a good friend, but can't you just go away for a moment?_

Harry felt the climax coming, and it was all he could do not to cry out. Both he and Hermione whimpered at the same time, and Colin was not the only one to look at them with a mixture of fascination and alarm.

_At least he doesn't have his bloody camera with him. _

"Hey! Are you two having a seizure of what?" asked Pavarti.

It was mercifully over. They were both coming back to their senses, and the embarrassment mounted as the euphoria of physical pleasure disappeared. Harry's face was red, and he grabbed a napkin to wipe his brow. Hermione looked at him and at Colin, her skin flushed as well. The comical aspect of the situation won over the awkwardness, and she burst out laughing.

"What the matter with you?" asked Colin again. He was ready to laugh with them, but he plainly didn't get it.

"Sorry about that... _pff_..." She was choking with laughter. "Let's just say than somebody... _pff_... pulled a very funny joke on us."

_Some joke! Thanks God, the kids have left._

They stared at her, and Harry took advantage of the distraction to make a needed adjustment in his clothing.

"I don't understand," said Pavarti.

"I really can't explain... _pff_..." Hermione buried her face in her arms on the table. Her shoulders were shaking with mirth.

Feeling much better, Harry was beginning to laugh as well._ Except that I've got to return to the dorm fast._ A new commotion was heard in the outer hall.

"Mister Weasley and Miss Lovegood, I will see you in my office immediately!" sounded the clear voice of professor McGonagall. "Such conduct is scandalous and unbecoming."

_I guess that Ron and Luna didn't make it to a safe place._

All heads were turned toward the lobby. He nudged Hermione.

"It might be better if one of us explained things to her," he said, indicating the direction of the professor's strident reproaches.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw!" exclaimed McGonagall. The great ruby containers adjusted their content with a crystalline sound. Several voices cried out in protestation from the corresponding tables.

Hermione sobered immediately.

"Right. I'm on it."

She stood up and moved quickly to intercept their Head of House.

Harry wiped more tears of laughter from his eyes, and found himself ambushed by Colin and Pavarti who were looking at him with very determined faces.

"Harry. You either explain exactly what happened, or I can guarantee that we will spread this far and wide," warned Pavarti.

He gestured for them to shut up.

"No! Don't mention this to anyone."

"What shouldn't be mentioned?" asked Dean who was just sitting down next to Pavarti.

_Not Dean now. This can't be real._

He started to look around to see if anybody else was coming.

"Harry..." started Colin menacingly. Harry gave up.

"Okay, okay. Here's what happened." He gave them the general idea. How, after a six way mind merge, they kept a residual link between themselves, through which strong emotions and feelings were transmitted.

"So when Ginny and Draco ..." started Dean. Comprehension dawned on them. Pavarti gasped and Colin had the grace to blush.

"Right," interrupted Harry, struggling to conserve his dignity. "I'd appreciate your discretion."

"Man, you should have seen your face," said Colin with a large grin.

"Darn, I missed that!" exclaimed Dean with unabashed envy. "So tell me, was it hot?"

"Hey! Forget about Ginny, will you." asked Pavarti, punching him in the side and throwing him a cross look. "You're going out with me now. Remember?"

"Now stop it!" said Harry, frowning. "This is uncomfortable enough as it is."

"So, Ron and Luna felt it too?" asked Colin. Harry nodded, and he couldn't hide a smile.

"Oh boy! Three guesses as to what McGonagall witnessed," chuckled Dean.

"And Hermione is going to _explain that_ to her," said Pavarti with a delighted smile. "Oh my, this is rich."

"Please!" pleaded Harry.

"Oh come on Harry, this is what you get for being such a powerful wizard," said Colin.

Pavarti took pity on him.

"All right, let's drop it," she said. "I'm real glad that you're all together again," she added seriously.

"Yeah, it was getting real heavy in the dorm, when you and Ron wouldn't even speak to each other," said Dean.

"Is it really okay?" asked Colin.

"Yes," answered Harry with confidence. "It's really okay now."


	30. Chapter 29 Holdup

_This is a long chapter in which many things happen, including the return of Dumbledore to Hogwarts after a Wizengamot meeting, the next moves of the Brotherhood, and the Centaurs._

* * *

**_Chapter 29 – Hold-up_**

_Hogwarts,_

With her customary brisk pace, professor Minerva McGonagall entered the Headmaster's office, her office in the interim period of Albus Dumbledore's absence. She was alone, but the portraits could see her face showing a curious mix of relief and impatience. She would frown, and then her mouth would display a thin smile, until she caught herself. She walked determinedly toward the fireplace, took a pinch of floo powder and threw it in the hearth.

"Albus Dumbledore, Ministry of Magic," she said.

A few moment later, the head of the old wizard appeared in the flames.

"Good morning, Minerva," said the Headmaster. He looked tired and his voice showed it as well. It was flat with none of his usual playful intonations.

"Good morning, Albus. How is your work progressing?" Her voice was business like. McGonagall had no idea of what he was doing over there, except that it involved finding a solution to the problem with the Goblins. She noted the fatigue but didn't comment on it.

"It is almost over."

"Good. Can we expect you back soon in that case?"

Dumbledore thought about it. He would be presenting his results to the Wizengamot this very morning. There would be some deliberations, and then the High Court and the Ministry would make their decision. Even if they wanted him to participate in the next phase, he should be able to get a few days' rest.

"Unless there are further complications, I expect to return to the school tonight," he said.

"It would be very convenient," said McGonagall. "There have been several new developments here."

"Nothing unduly serious I hope?" he asked cautiously.

McGonagall's expression didn't change much. She simply let a little more of her impatience show.

"Not at all," she said with carefully controlled sarcasm. "Just your basic routine of life threatening accidents, rebellious students, hormone crazed teenagers, sullen professors and the most vicious political climate in decades. Nothing I can't handle. In fact, it looks like the situation is improving."

"Oh." A vague twinkle showed in his eyes. "Has it been that bad?"

She sighed heavily and nodded.

"Albus, it would be a very good thing if you could be here tonight. Your six _protégés_ in particular are most impatient to see you."

"The six of them?" The Headmaster's face suddenly froze.

"Yes. They had a very bad falling out, but that seems to be over now. Miss Granger asked me this morning when they could see you."

At the mention of Hermione's name, the Headmaster's face became actually anxious. McGonagall looked at him with a penetrating stare. She was sure that he was mixed up in what had been happening with her students, and she was determined to learn exactly what.

"Hermione Granger," he said in a toneless voice.

"Yes. The young lady whom I was trying to discuss with you two weeks ago, in case you do not remember."

Dumbledore blinked once.

"What did she say?"

"She apologized for her past conduct in class, and she said that they had a lot of things to explain and several questions to ask."

"She apologized?"

"Yes, to me personally." McGonagall couldn't hide the satisfaction and relief that she felt from the return of a proper relationship with her favorite student. "She said that the past weeks had been very trying for her, and that events had caused her to think wrongly about several people, but that she now had a better idea of whom to blame."

That didn't reassure Dumbledore at all, but he was not going to flee from his responsibilities, however unpleasant they might be.

"Tell them that I will see them tonight at nine o'clock, just after dinner," he said with a sober expression. "We will use the smaller drawing room, the one for visitors. Good day, Minerva."

His face disappeared from the flames. McGonagall didn't even have time to ask him why he didn't want to meet the students in his office. She frowned because she still didn't know what was going on, but at least things were moving.

- - -

_Ministry of Magic,_

The usher's staff boomed once again.

"I declare this session of the Wizengamot open," said Albus Dumbledore.

Once again, he was facing the assembly of wizards and witches who would decide on the future of the magical community. This time however, he was facing many fewer friendly faces from the benches reserved for the Ministry. He had spent the morning re-establishing contacts with the other members of the High Court, and to his dismay, he had learned that the new administration's decisions were popular among many of them. Of course there was an opposition, but it was a weak one. He saw Amelia Bones sitting among her supporters, and they exchanged a cold look. Her expression was hard and resentful.

Shrummer was called up to make a presentation on the current situation. He started with the less controversial items and finished with the most important one.

"... and the situation with the Goblins is still deadlocked," he said in a confident and practiced voice. "Our decisive action had broken the previous impasse, but negotiations have bogged down once again." He shook his head sadly. "I am very much afraid, my dear colleagues, that nothing can be done with these creatures. This is why I will now propose a radical alternative."

There were angry murmurs from those who had voted for Bones, but Dumbledore ignored them. He was watching the undeclared, those who could still change allegiance according to circumstances. For the moment they were on Shrummer's side and, as he had found out, they did not regret it. However they were listening carefully, and from the anxiety that he could see on some faces, he knew that some cracks were showing in the Minister's coalition. At another time he would have been feverishly thinking of how to turn latent doubts into positive votes, but today he was too tired to do more than hope.

"It was Arthur Weasley who managed the breakthrough with the Goblins," said Seraphin Doodles. A middle aged wizard who had made no secret of his support for Bones. "Why did you sack him?"

"Come now," answered the Minister unabashed. "Arthur Weasley acted on my orders and with my authority, and the result was positive. That was good, but then he publicly questioned the Ministry's policy. That was not acceptable."

There were other critics and Shrummer fended them off easily. After a moment he was finally asked to present his new alternative. Nobody was saying it out loud, but many in the room were worried on whether or not they would ever recover the contents of their vaults. A hundred Galleons a week was all right for the common wizard, but for some of them, it was misery. Shrummer sensed their impatience and reveled in it.

"As you recall, my initial preference was for using the threat of force, and following through if necessary," he said. "In deference to the wishes of several of you, I have asked Albus Dumbledore to explore the possibility of duplicating the financial services of Gringotts, and thus giving us a currency which would not be under the control of potential enemies. I now call on him to present his conclusions."

There were a number of surprised expressions on the faces of the less informed members, but most of them were aware of what the Headmaster had been doing these past days. Dumbledore prepared to testify, but first he had to appoint a replacement for his position as Chief Warlock. He selected the doyen member of the assembly. Griselda Marchbanks was an elderly witch with a reputation for neutrality. They knew each other well, and he would have no surprise from that quarter.

The Headmaster then walked to the center of the court, and started to explain what he had been doing. His presentation described how Gringotts worked, and how it could be reproduced. Unlike the manner in which the Goblins did things, where the magic was in the actual forging of the coins, he proposed that the money be first minted in a mundane manner, with one coin, which for simplicity's sake would be worth one Galleon, and one magical key per potential client. The real magic would reside in a special chamber which would be created by a complex ritual, and which would in fact be the core of the new bank.

This place, which he called the Golden Chamber, would have the power to turn a single metal coin into a 'stem Galleon' capable of producing as many magical replicates Galleons as was credited to the customer's account. The new Galleons would be ready to be taken out and used as guaranteed money. The key would remain with the wizard and be used for access and to activate the procedure. The stem Galleon would remain in the chamber. A minor charm would allow the splitting of a coin into lower denominations.

The really powerful feature of the system would be to allow a customer to create an account from his Gringotts key vault. In that case, all Galleons in his Gringotts vault would immediately disappear, and the stem Galleon would be credited by the corresponding amount.

"So in a sense it's the perfect bank robbery?" asked Amelia Bones sarcastically.

"That is not correct," countered Dumbledore. "The money remains the property of its owner. He has simply changed banks. In fact, it is perfectly possible that if the Goblins cooperate, some wizards may elect to remain clients of Gringotts and that in the future, the two banking system could actually co-exist."

"How is the Golden Chamber created?" asked Stephen Ticklash with an eager expression. He looked ready to confront his own pet theories with the Chief Warlock. Dumbledore did his best to cut short that debate.

"It is a combination of property and pledge magic. A physical location, with undisputable ownership, must be selected. The owners, which you can consider to be the founders and stockholders of the bank, will pledge their family magic for this purpose. They will pay a price in constrained magical power, and in swearing an oath to assure a continuity and fairness of service. In exchange they should probably be allowed a small commission on transactions, or the right to invest some of the money."

The assistance reflected silently. Some people could get very rich with such a deal. It looked made to order for old and powerful families fallen on hard times.

"Can you assure us that it will be successful?" questioned a wizard named Dwight Mason. He was known to be one the richest member of the Wizengamot, and therefore one of those who had the most to lose if no solution was found.

"Nothing like this has been tried before," replied Dumbledore. "So I cannot really guarantee the success of this enterprise, but I am quite confident on the validity of the theory, and I welcome any members of this assembly to check my work." He added humbly. "One key issue is the committement of the founders, and another is magical power of course." He didn't add more. Few wizards would realize how much power would actually be needed, or what would happen in case of failure.

"How will the Goblins react" asked Amelia Bones. "This can only be seen as a deadly threat to them."

Dumbledore shrugged. She had some nerve to ask that question, since it was her who had actually proposed it first. Someone else answered her, and said that the Goblins were only reaping the consequences of their intransigence.

"What about other stuff?" asked Sylvia Dragonis. "Such as objects kept in the vaults, and which are not money. How can we recover them?"

"I can do nothing about that, Madam. I think that would be a subject for negotiation."

Shrummer took the occasion to come back into the discussion.

"That is perfectly correct," he said. "In fact the mere threat of going through with this project, may force the Goblins to finally agree to a final accord." He walked into the center of the court. His face expressed earnest goodwill. "Gentlemages, I am not a man to be intimidated, but I am not a warmonger either. My administration will always be ready to take any painful decision which the situation may require. Give the Ministry the authority to use all available means to put this plan into operation, and I will make one last attempt to get those pesky creatures to see reason. If we can negotiate a peaceful resolution, something at least equivalent to the status quo before the present crisis, then I solemnly swear that I will not abuse of the power this new development will give us."

He was proposing a wizard's pledge. There could be not higher guarantee.

"What do you require sir?" asked Marchbanks.

"The official accord of this assembly to use any necessary means to make the ritual work, Madam," he said. "As professor Dumbledore explained, this is not a dried and cut operation. We may have to use magical resources which may not be ... quite legal. I would not want to go to the mat with the Goblins, and then find myself hampered by a technicality."

Shrummer was clearly embarrassed. He had the face of a deeply honest man who found himself constrained to compromise with impeccable principles, for the common good.

"Illegal magical resources, you say. Surely you don't mean Dark Magic?"

"I hope not Madam. Grey magic perhaps, but surely not Dark." He shook his head in horror. "I was rather thinking along the lines of ancient family rituals. You will understand that I cannot be more explicit."

The witch understood, as they all did. These things were secret, and very private. What most of them were now thinking was that some powerful families wanted to participate in the enterprise, in effect becoming bankers, and that they would contribute some of their unsavory family magic in exchange for immense wealth. The morality of the operation was dubious, but as long as some lines were not crossed, it would be acceptable.

"We may require explicit assurance. After all, it must remain a public service, and untainted."

"Certainly." Shrummer took out a piece of paper. "I have prepared a charter for the new bank, which I suggest we call Wizgotts." He signaled the usher who tapped his wand on a pile of parchments. The sheets immediately folded themselves into little paper airplanes which flew toward the seated wizards and witches, and unfolded neatly in front of them.

Dumbledore read his copy as well. It was straightforward stuff. Teller operations would be free. The bank would have the right to invest the money held and keep a fraction of the proceeds. There should be no more surprises. They would debate it a little longer, and then it would be put to a vote.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Since it was a normal school day, they still had to spend some time in classrooms. Not to mention that homework had not been a top priority for them these last weeks, and that it was piling up. The professors didn't make any explicit remarks, but they could not fail to notice the dramatic change in the atmosphere of the sixth year's classes. McGonagall was particularly relieved to see Harry seated next to Ron and Hermione with Draco, and that the girl had returned to her usual positive participation.

"Miss Granger, could I speak with you for a minute?" asked the professor when the lesson was finished. Hermione obliged.

McGonagall noticed that the other three did not quite leave the room. Even during class, they seemed to be constantly checking on each other as if they were in a state of infatuation. She recognized the symptoms. It confirmed what the girl had told her that morning.

"I have spoken with the Headmaster. He will be coming back to the school this evening. I told him you wanted to see him. Am I right in thinking that it involves the six of you?"

"Yes, professor."

McGonagall waited a few seconds in the hope that she might be given some advance preview of what would be discussed. Hermione remained silent with a serious face. It would be difficult enough to talk about everything in the proper setting. Doing it between classes was unimaginable. The professor saw that she would have to wait some more and sighed.

"Well then. He will be ready to see you at nine," she said with a hint of frustration in her voice. "I will wait for you in the great hall and take you to him. That will be all."

Hermione grimaced an apology, which was eerily echoed on the other's faces, and they left the classroom.

- - -

_Ministry of Magic,_

When Shrummer returned to his office, it was with a thrilling sense of anticipation. He immediately called Boocrat to give him the good news.

"We have the green light from the Wizengamot," he said.

"Did they change the actual wording on the document we had prepared?" asked the scholar.

"No. The only condition is that no Dark Magic be used. From what I gather, that should not be a problem?"

"No, it should not. We should proceed with the treaty cancellation as soon as possible." He paused. "Did Albus Dumbledore make any specific remarks?"

"None. I think he is still clueless as to our intentions."

The Scholar did not remark on what he thought of the opinion of Shrummer concerning a wizard such as the Headmaster.

"So much the better, but we will not wait for that to change. Can you arrange to get Dragonis and the others to join me in the Department of Mysteries as soon as possible?"

"We will be there in half an hour."

Thirty minutes later, a group of solemn faced wizards and witches entered the one of the Ministry's most important room. It contained a sealed copy of every magical treaty ever signed, and also of every pledge made between wizards. Unlike the similar room which housed known prophecies, its official purpose was not archival, but confirmation. Those engagements were binding _because_ they were stored here. The room was vast. The walls were lined with filing cabinets containing simple sheets of paper. The space was partitioned with shelves filled with thin books detailing commercial transactions. Here and there, small tables were disposed, with the major treaties represented as heavy volumes with elaborate dragon skin covers. Access to each document was restricted to the authorized parties, in a way which depended on the importance of the pledge.

For simple oaths between wizards, the system was fully automatic. When the agreement was made, a sheet of magical paper appeared in one of the filing cabinets. The terms of the accord were written on it, and while it existed, the wizards had to abide to it. If both participants agreed, it could be voided and the sheet would disappear. The more complex contracts required physical interventions and often special rituals. They were protected by powerful runes and wards. Most of these documents were of course confidential. Some were so secret that most wizards did not even know of their existence.

The Camelot/Hogwarts treaty had thus been protected by the equivalent of a _Fidelus_ spell. Alan Boocrat had often visited this room, and he had never found it. He only knew it existed by indirect inferences. The day after their first foray into Camelot, he had returned in this very room. This time, an extremely old volume was visible in a previously empty corner. He had been able to see it, but not to open or even touch it. Two days ago, after the last desecration ritual, he had finally been able to read it for the first time.

Today, after the Wizengamot vote, and all their work, they would actually have the power to alter it, and thus confirm their hold on the entire area which had been ceded to the Centaurs. Even then, it would not happen with a simple wave of a wand. It would be hard work and last for several hours. The entire council of the Brotherhood would participate, in what was to be the final culmination of almost a thousand years of efforts.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

They got their first chance to discuss the situation seriously after lunch and before the start of the first afternoon classes. They holed up in Hagrid's hut and Hermione made a synthesis of what they knew, and what questions remained pending.

"We have several troubling facts to analyse. The first is that Fudge, apparently with the help of Umbridge, suddenly decided to publish a law which seemed to have had no other purpose other than to piss off the Goblins. Second, someone, or a group of people, which we will call X for simplicity's sake, killed Umbridge, making it look like a Goblin crime. These facts have been reported by Gauldbag, and partially corroborated by other information which Draco and Ginny got from Trevor and Shrummer."

She looked up.

"From that, I deduce that X wanted the trouble to arise. Now the Goblins may be lying, or X might be a Goblin faction, but I think we have to concede that X exists."

"Third, politics." She looked at Ginny and Draco, "You two got drawn in on Shrummer's side and nobody stopped you. I started with Bones, sold the idea of FOM to her, and then Dumbledore put a stop to it, in a forceful, and to my mind excessive, manner."

"We know that you're a very stubborn witch," said Draco with a small grin. "Did he try to convince you by other means before?"

Hermione scowled furiously, but she had to admit he was right.

"Okay, maybe he did. Anyway, despite this Bones decided to run for office with FOM as her program, and she got Helen to help her. Trevor had you to sign that letter of support which basically got Shrummer elected. Do we agree that he must have tricked you?"

This time it was Draco's and Ginny's turn to be embarrassed, but they had already gone through it in the merging, and most of the guilt was done, except toward the rest of the Weasley family. They didn't reply immediately.

"You should accept it," said Luna gently. "It will make things easier with Arthur and Molly. You were reckless, but Trevor was the one who planned it."

Draco nodded slowly, and there was anger in his eyes. He would not forget. Ginny didn't say anything. She was dreading the time when she would have to meet her father. She pressed herself against Draco's side and closed her eyes. She felt a hand caressing her cheek, and she looked up to see Harry's face.

"We'll be with you when that happens," he said softly. "All together, and it will be all right."

She glanced at Hermione who gave him that same assurance, and of course Ron and Luna would be there. She clasped Harry's hand and wondered how they ever could have thought of doing anything without them. Hermione waited a little and continued.

"Now where it gets interesting is the link that we have between Comil, Thelas, Shrummer and Boocrat. The Goblins gave us a real tip on Boocrat. What was in his house points to another conspiracy, this time apparently against Hogwarts, probably using us, and possibly the Headmaster." She looked at Draco who continued for her.

"And which includes using Ginny and I to help get Shrummer elected," he agreed. "I remember that time at the Parkinsons. Shrummer and Boocrat did everything they could to make us look good and impress the hell out of the rest of the assembly. A lot of those people have influence in the Wizengamot, and it paid off big." He clenched his fists and the anger in his eyes burned hotter. "I think you're right. These bastards got together and played us like puppets."

_They will pay for that. We'll get Dumbledore to make us testify in front of the High Court, and we'll have Shrummer out of the Ministry and into Azkaban faster than you can spell Wizengamot. _

"And now we have two important questions," said Hermione.

"Is there a link between X and Shrummer's gang? And if they are not the same then what is X's goal?"

"Then what about the Power Circle? And that other castle?"

They looked at each other and Luna raised her hand.

"I believe that there is another question we should ask ourselves," she said. "Something strange happened to Ron, and then we have Sir Comil's position to consider. Is he just an innocent bystander or did he play a role?"

"All right. We can put it down as questions number three and four," said Hermione, finishing up her notes. "And of course, we don't know what the Headmaster thinks about all this. But we will know that soon." She turned toward Harry and her face was determined. "We ask him, and we don't give up until he tells us everything he knows."

Harry nodded slowly, and the others did the same.

- - -

_Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries,_

The seven figures were arranged in a circle around the table where the treaty book was open at the first page. The room had been fully warded, and everything arranged so that they would not be disturbed. On a side table, a cauldron was softly bubbling, and an ornate silver knife was lying next to it.

Alan Boocrat started reading the text phrase by phrase. After each one, he would mutter a spell, dip his wand into the cauldron, and pass it over the written words. Then they would speak out together, either repeating the phrase unchanged, or with slight modifications, or with a completely different meaning. The text was updated accordingly.

Every phrase mentioning Hogwarts and the Centaurs was changed.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Dumbledore woke up from his afternoon nap and got up. He had returned from the Ministry a few hours ago, partially relieved from what had happened in the morning, and with a bad case of post stress fatigue. The nap had been a necessity. There were potions to keep a wizard without need of sleep or rest for several days, but like Muggle pep drugs, they had unpleasant side effects. The Headmaster was tense enough at the thought of meeting the students he had let down so badly. The last thing he needed was to be distracted or irritable.

_At least they managed to remain friends. In that they were wiser than most._

His eyes fell on a bowl of treats. He refrained from reaching out to take one. Actually he had not eaten a single candy since that awful night in the Wizengamot. That had never happened before. The small discipline was negligible compared to the criminal mistakes that he had made, but there was so little he could do about it, that the small symbolic privation took on an excessive importance. He felt very much alone. No one had even lashed out at him, either accusing him or demanding account, and of course no one had forgiven him. He was facing only himself, and showing no mercy.

He opened a cupboard and searched for an appropriate dress. He almost selected a very old and worn out robe, but that would really be overdoing it with the self pity. He finally chose a simple one with a soft blue theme.

_Really Albus. Dressing up for a meeting with your own students. You are definitively on the slope to senility. _

Only he didn't consider them as students. He had tried to do that more than once, and it had never worked well. To McGonagall and the other teachers, even Snape, they could be that. It was easy enough for those whose only responsibilities were confined to the school routine, to treat them as children to be educated, but he had a more complex history with these six youths. That was part of the reason why he was not seeing them in his office. Students got convoked to the Headmaster's office, but they were - he didn't know what his relationship with them would be anymore. Certainly they were not children.

Albus Dumbledore was tense and worried, but he was still a Gryffindor. He squared his shoulders and walked decisively out of his quarters.

Minerva McGonagall, Severus Snape and the six were waiting for him in the little drawing room. By common consent, they had only talked of mundane matters, and very little of that. They were all standing. Snape was curious but reserved, McGonagall was determined and impatient. The six were together, not explicitly touching, but very much standing out as a group. It was uncanny how the slightest gesture by one of them was immediately reflected in the others, as they adjusted to the change in configuration. The image in Snape's mind was that of a flock of birds, flying and turning as one.

"Good evening," said Dumbledore.

They returned the greeting politely, noting his unusual seriousness and the lines of fatigue. The Headmaster conjured up a circular table and a few more chairs, and then he motioned for all of them to be seated. The table was large and they arranged themselves in three groups. He found himself symbolically isolated, facing the six on his right and the two teachers on his left. It was very difficult for him to look at anyone directly. His eyes moved from one to the other until they caught Luna's. Her face was the one he was most comfortable with, and he stopped his gaze there.

"Thank you for accepting to see us, professor Dumbledore," she said.

Looking at her, he suddenly intuited the key role she must have played. He had only received a cursory report from McGonagall, but he knew enough to read between the lines. Things must have been pretty bad.

"You are most welcome," he replied. "Before we start, I would like to offer my most sincere apologies for the mistakes I have made, or allowed to happen." He saw the surprise and disapproval on McGonagall's face, and he gestured to stop her from saying anything. He also noted Snape's tight control, and a softening, or maybe he was imagining it, of Hermione's expression.

"Ultimately, I am the one to blame for everything that happened. What is done is done. We now have the most retrograde Minister of Magic in decades, and I am afraid that it is much too late to change it." He stopped when he saw that Harry indicated that he had something to say.

"I don't know about that, sir," he said. "But we don't think it's over yet, and what we are going to tell you will hopefully convince you of it."

- - -

_Ministry of Magic, Department of Mysteries,_

It was the last page, and the key part of the ritual. The will and intentions of the original signatories, as symbolized by their signatures, still had the magical power to break everything that the Brotherhood had done up to now. They had to neutralize this, and in effect substitute their own magic, using the implicit delegation of authority given by the Wizengamot, Shrummer's position as Ministry of Magic, and the hereditary rights of Sylvia Dragonis. Everything that had been done, since Electra had formulated her plan, had been aimed at this final act.

They turned toward the brewing potion and each of them used the knife to donate a few drops of blood. Boocrat took a final dip from the brew with his wand and touched each signature, which then became blurred. When that was done, they all pronounced a long incantation, terminated by complex wand movement over the page. There was a flash of light, and then the ancient signatures were replaced with seven new ones.

It was done. They looked at each with the savage joy of victory. The work had been exhausting, but in this supreme moment, they felt no fatigue. Camelot was now officially the property of the Blood Brotherhood. Shrummer silently reflected that Amelia Bones had been right about calling this a perfect robbery, except that she had been wrong about the target. They now had the power to replace Gringotts, but that had only been a justification for their real goal, getting control of Merlin's Power Circle.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

The six students took turn in describing what they had witnessed and done, up to this morning. When they were finished, Dumbledore was deep in thought. He gave them his own version of the events at Gringotts and at the Ministry, including the justification for his apparent cooperation against the Goblins.

"My reading of Shrummer's intentions was that he would have started a war without it." He gestured helplessly. "I did not suspect Alan Boocrat, but from what you tell me, and several signs which I did not think important at the time, he probably knew everything about the subject I was researching. They did not need me at all."

In truth he was both relieved that some malignant force had been at work, thus absolving him of some of the guilt, and very worried that the situation was much more complex than he had thought.

"They wanted to keep you busy," said Snape. It was the first time he had spoken. "Just like they wanted the six of you neutralized."

They all turned toward him. He was annoyed to see signs of surprise on most of their faces, except for Draco. _These people don't understand the first thing about conspiracy._

"X and Shrummer's group are evidently the same," he continued smugly. "The real question is why they saw fit to do this. It is obvious that the position of Minister is not the end of it."

Dumbledore considered the man for a moment. _Trust a Slytherin to see such things clearly. Too bad he waited until now._

"Your reasoning is admirable Severus," he said. "It is unfortunate that, as a _professor_, you were not aware of these developments before." He kept his eyes on the man with a measuring stare.

Snape sensed the barb in the words. He frowned but said nothing. He had let the situation fester, and in that respect, he was only slightly less guilty than the others. Dumbledore was right. Standing aside had been acceptable in his role as professor, but as a prospective Headmaster, he should have been actively trying to understand what was happening, and doing what he could to counter it.

McGonagall showed her irritation at the verbal fencing.

"That's enough both of you!" she snapped. "The past can't be changed, but we should examine the remaining information in our possession. Mister Potter is quite correct that we haven't seen the end of this."

Dumbledore and Snape stopped glaring at each other. Severus inclined his head in a gesture of apology which the Headmaster acknowledged.

"Yes," said Luna, "And would also like to know if something has been done to Ron."

They explained the contradiction between Harry and Ron's memory of events. The Headmaster summoned Fawkes, and asked the Phoenix to recover the pensieve from his office. Ron and Harry were asked to place a copy of their memories in it. Dumbledore and Severus examined them while Ron looked on anxiously. After a while they came back into the world and exchanged a look. Snape cocked his head slightly toward Ron and the Headmaster nodded.

"Mister Weasley," said Snape. "Will you please allow me to examine your mind for a moment?"

Ron was terrified. He remembered very well Harry's description of his lessons with the potion master, even though these were with the _old Snape_. And then there was a lot of his private life that he didn't want the man to see. The professor knew exactly what he was thinking and gave him a disgusted look.

"Mister Weasley, I assure you that I do not wish to learn anymore of your turpitudes than I already know. If you can manage to concentrate on that specific event only, then this should prove a simple and straightforward examination."

Luna took his hand and expressed calming thoughts. Ron was sick and tired about thinking about Alicia's accident, but he really had no choice, and maybe he would get rid of the terrible doubts which still haunted him. He gulped and nodded his agreement. Snape waived his wand at him.

"_Legilimens!_"

He did not try to simply consult the boy's memories, but also their continuity and emotional context. The pensieve vision had been choppy and unfocussed, while Harry's had been clear and sharp. It was a sign of either mental manipulation or grave psychological instability.

The examination lasted a full minute. The professor ended the spell, and Ron fell back into his chair with a groan.

"Undoubtfully mental manipulation," said Snape clinically. "Specifically concerning the emotional state which was exacerbated to an irrational rage, and afterwards there are signs of a very remarkable _Obliviate_." He considered them all. "The person who did this was not a student, and he could not have been very far away. Did you notice anyone close to you?"

"There was no one else but us, Kirke, and the other kids," said Harry.

"Hum. It is easy enough to hide in the grounds. I wonder if this was the only time this happened." Snape's paranoid mind was exploring new angles. The past weeks had been filled with many excessive emotional displays, himself included. In most cases, there had been good causes for it, but now he suspected everything. "Did any of you feel suddenly and abnormally emotional for no objective reason, or compelled to act strangely, in the past weeks?" he added.

Silence followed as they reviewed their memories. After a while Hermione spoke.

"I don't know if it corresponds to what you mean, professor, but I felt very edgy at the Auror ceremony, and in the following days." She grimaced at Ron. "And then after the match, in the infirmary, I got into this stupid row with Ron, but I guess that I was upset about Harry and Draco's accident..."

Snape examined her mind as well. The effect was much less perceptible, but it was there. He told her so. Hermione looked stricken. The idea that someone had invaded her mind without her knowledge, and for a possibly criminal purpose, was intolerable.

"What- What did they make me do?" she gasped.

"It is not clear that you were made to do anything specific, Miss Granger. Your memory has not been altered, so simply reflect on what you remember."

"I felt ... uncomfortable. I kept imagining that all those people were thinking ... bad thoughts about me, you know, Muggle born and ... not worthy. And then, when I was with Helen, we talked about FOM and the association." She looked at the Headmaster who looked back with sad eyes. "I felt that I really had to do something to change those prejudices, and when I saw Amelia Bones ... well I thought that she could help."

Snape thought back on the ceremony as well.

_Fudge's stupid remark... and then his decision to provoke the Goblins... Merlin's Ghost!_

"I fear that you were not the only one to be manipulated," he said grimly.

"Fudge," said Dumbledore, who had been following the same reasoning.

They pondered this new theory. It explained practically everything which had happened up to the past days. Everything but the motive.

"All this must tie in somehow with that _Power Circle_ which you mention," said Dumbledore. "But I do not understand how they could hope to use it." He turned toward McGonagall. "Has anyone tried to get inside the school in the past weeks?" She shook her head. He tapped his finger nervously. "In any case, I will need to see it as soon as possible."

"You have no knowledge of such a thing?" asked Snape.

"No, Severus. And I have never heard of a teleporting circle before. You say that it was very old?" he asked of the students.

"Yes sir," said Harry. "I would say that it is much older that the rest of the castle."

"Hum. Very well. I suggest that we go there now, but before that, I would like to have a word alone with Miss Granger." McGonagall and Snape stood up, but the five other students hesitated. Dumbledore sighed sadly. "I assure you that I mean her no harm, quite the contrary. I would take it as a favor if you would allow me that liberty."

Harry wasn't sure, but Hermione understood that he probably wanted to talk about the incident between them. She touched Harry's hand and silently told him to do it. Severus suggested that they go and examine the circle room without waiting for them. They filed out of the room and now the Headmaster faced the student he had wronged the most. A heavy silence followed.

"Miss Granger," he began sadly. "I wanted to apologize privately for the grief I have caused you. I do not know if you will ever forgive what happened, and I would understand it if you didn't. The only excuse I can offer is that I truly tried to preserve you." He grimaced. "In that, I certainly failed, but what we have discussed surely shows that, as I had argued, there are indeed ruthless forces still at work in our world."

Hermione stayed silent, because there was nothing that she could think of saying. She needed more time to digest all this.

"I know that I have lost your trust," continued Dumbledore in a tired and lifeless voice, "and that will be part of the price I will pay. A form of wizard's debt, and a very real one it is."

"I wasn't just me," she finally said. "You blocked Bones and FOM."

"Amelia Bones is another matter, but you are correct that I did put a stop to your plans for the association, even though I thought it admirable in principle. It was a political judgment, and it looks like I was wrong, but your dream will not die. Even if Bones' effort fails, you and others will take over." He looked straight at her. "In any case, I have made the decision to release you from those restrictions which I imposed at that time. I will not stop you anymore from doing what you want. I am not certain that yours is the most efficient way of promoting those ideals, but I no longer feel qualified to judge that."

"You mean that ..."

"Yes, Miss Granger. You and your friends have earned the right to decide on those things for yourselves. If you so wish it, I will let you speak to the Wizengamot, and I will support your position, with what is left of my influence."

"Why?" asked Hermione.

She was very surprised by the offer. It didn't sound like the Headmaster at all. He looked back at her with a very sad and weary expression.

"I have played a role in public life for a long time, Miss Granger. I have always tried to be a stabilizing influence, and sometimes this meant acting when I believed the situation demanded it. I have done this, but I am getting old. I have made many mistakes, and now I am not even the one who is able to correct them. To me that is the sign that I must retire soon, and leave others to take the lead." He saw the alarm on her face. "Oh, I will remain available, and a member of the Wizengamot, but I think that I do not deserve to be Chief Warlock anymore." He smiled weakly. "So you see, the least I can offer you is my support while it still means something."

Hermione stayed silent while she reflected on his words. She found them very disturbing.

"What was done to us," she said, "and to you as well it seems, it was wrong and cruel, and it makes me mad. I'm not going to let them get away with it. These people are evil. They killed Umbridge, even though she was probably an accomplice, and they almost killed Alicia. Don't you want to get back at them too?"

"Revenge Miss Granger?" he asked softly.

"Not revenge, justice!" she affirmed. "Evil triumphs when good men and women stand aside."

"I did not stand aside," he objected.

"You tried to make me stand aside. Me and the rest of us." She was indignant. "We should have been fighting from the beginning. Haven't we proved our worth?"

"You have." He sighed heavily. "And I have told you that I would not stop you anymore, which means that I will help you as much as I can."

"But you don't believe anymore," insisted Hermione. She looked piercingly at him. "You've given up, is that it?"

"I have not given up," he replied frowning. "I simply acknowledge that I have failed."

Hermione knew she was playing a dangerous game, but they needed to have the real Dumbledore on their side, not this tired old man he had become.

"Is that what you want to be remembered for?" she goaded. "A failure?"

A flash of anger flared in his eyes.

"I may have wronged you, Miss Granger, but I will not tolerate disrespect. I warn you-"

"I don't care about your warning," she interrupted. "When we fought Voldemort, you were our leader. You showed us the way and we followed you proudly. This is not the case anymore. You got us into this mess, and now you just want to get out, like a coward."

The insult stung him. He stood up furiously and the air crackled around him. His eyes glowed like she had seen them do before, and she braced herself for the same backlash of power.

Down in the circle room, Severus Snape had been examining the circle. He was standing inside it, when it suddenly flared with a blinding explosion of golden light. He was violently thrown in the air and to the side. The others ran to help him. Smoke was rising from his tattered robe.

"MISS GRANGER!" yelled Dumbledore. "No one talks to me like that!"

Hermione felt his anger wash over her once again, but this time she wasn't as helpless. Something inside her was responding to the assault and protecting her. More than that, it was giving her a surprising sense of strength. Her confidence increased, and she stood up as well, throwing her chair crashing to the floor. The Headmaster was so incensed that he didn't realize immediately that her eyes were now burning as brightly as his. A red glow bathed her face.

"WELL I DO!" she roared. "I don't want your excuses, if all you want is to surrender. Lash out at me if you want, but it's _them_ who deserve it. What happened to the great Albus Dumbledore? It's him I want and no one else!"

More light radiated from the circle. There were two colors now. Red battled gold for dominance. Harry and the others had to stand back, dragging professor Snape with them. They used their wands to cast protection spells, but even with that, they had to closed their eyes and muffle their ears as bolts of energy rebounded across the room.

"YOU-"

Dumbledore suddenly stopped as he saw Hermione before him, gloriously unafraid and determined, her face set in an expression of challenge, her eyes two flaming pools of fire. Surprise froze him. How could the girl show such power? His anger went away. He recalled her words and felt shame once again, but this time it was for the weakness he had displayed. This girl, barely into womanhood, was showing him the true values of Gryffindor House. It was a further humiliation, but the power was still flowing through him. Dumbledore took it all, and then he did with it what he knew these young men and women had done with their affection. He pushed against the pain, the guilt and the self pity, and _willed _himself to be strong once more, strong like them. She was right, Arthur was right. Sometimes the answer was to _do_ things and throw away the consequences. He placed his hands on the table and his face radiated assurance once more.

Hermione held her breath. She had watched with fascination the emotions play across his face. Her heart leaped, when she saw the familiar twinkle of amusement back in his eyes. The tide of magical energy slowly drained from them.

"It would seem, Miss Granger, that you have a definite talent for provocation," he said with a new and different voice. "And I must admit that I would very much to see it exercised on our current Minister. Do you think that we could arrange that?"

She grinned at him.

"I would love that, professor. I'm sure that we could give him a ride for his money."

He gestured for her to follow him. After the relief, she was feeling the aftershock of their outburst. Her head swam with dizziness, and she took a few deep breaths while he considered her with undisguised affection and respect. In her mind they were now even, although she could barely believe what she had dared to do. She looked at him and saw that he didn't seem to be holding any grudge.

"Professor?"

"Yes Miss Granger?" he said gently. She paused but his face told her to go on.

"I wish you would go back to calling me Hermione. Er, at least in private," she added.

He smiled and took her arm to lead her out of the room.

"That will be both a pleasure and an honor, Hermione. Shall we rejoin our friends now?"

- - -

_Camelot,_

The expedition arrived in sight of the ruins shortly before nightfall. There were five Centaurs, led by Bane and including Firenze and Lyman, and three Pure Ones. From a distance, everything seemed normal. It was only as they got closer to the outside wall, that a strident sense of danger filled them. Firenze and Lyman were in front with one of the Unicorn when a grey shape jumped from behind a rock. Lyman had been expecting something and he was ready. The others weren't.

"Fizenze! To your right!"

The Unicorn jumped away quickly, but Firenze stayed put and reached for his bow. The shape closed the distance and struck at one of his legs. He felt a sharp pain, and then he had to defend himself with his hands. He pushed the attacker violently away. By that time Lyman had his weapon prepared and he launched an arrow at it. The Golem was stuck head on and the powerful impact broke it into several pieces. They looked like those of the stone demon which had attacked Flitz in the forest a few weeks ago.

Bane screamed at them to regroup. It was an ambush and they were much too close to the ruins. Another Golem appeared and Lyman turned to aim at it, shouting at Firenze to get back. The old Centaur was distracted, and another one of the shapes slammed into him from the side. It was holding a short, pointed sword in one talon and it drove the blade into the Herd Mentor's human body half, just below the ribs.

Lyman screamed with rage and pain and lashed out at the creature away, stepping between it and Firenze. The other Centaurs took out their bow and searched for a proper shooting angle, but they hesitated in fear of hitting their friends. Lyman dropped his bow and fell on his knees. The Golem was trying to get past him and he reached out to clasp at one leg. He barely saw Firenze escape away. Blood and strength were flowing from him but he concentrated on holding on to the monster.

Firenze turned back when he was at Bane's level and aimed his bow. Lyman was being brutally struck at. He saw an opening and let out a powerful arrow at one monster, breaking off its left arm.

There were more stony shapes coming out at them. Lyman was on the ground, unconscious. One Golem was hacking savagely at him with a horrible sound. The Centaurs send arrows flying, but suddenly the Golems started screaming with a shrill sound which tore at their eardrums. The noise was unbearable and the Centaurs had to run away. It was too much for them. They could face death, fear and the pain of wounds, but the high frequency sound was driving them mad. They only stopped and regrouped at a safe distance. The demons didn't try to pursue. They hovered a moment and then went back into the ruins. After that, only a few fleeting shapes could be seen now and then for a while.

"Bane! They killed Lyman, and Firenze is wounded," said Ronan. He was pressing leaves against the leg of the other Centaur. Blood was flowing all the way to the hoof.

"What about the Pure Ones?" Bane turned around to see where they were.

_We are well._

"What happened! Where did these demons come from?"

_The Shrine is now the wizards' property._

"Wizard demons!" hissed Bane. "I knew it was them all along." He looked back at the ruins. There was no further movement.

"Bane, we can't fight them," said Ronan. "What are we going to do?"

The Unicorns were calm, but desperate anguish could be seen on the Centaurs' faces. A new Herd Mentor could be found, but without the Shrine, the foals would remain animals. The Herd would wither and die, and they could not even use the gateways to escape to another place.

Bane felt his mind harden with anger and hatred against the humans. This was not even war. It was extermination. There was no word for genocide in the Centaur's tongue, but that was what he thought was happening. He could see only one response.

_I will not stand idle while they do this. If our foals' lives mean so little to them, then why should we respect theirs?_

Making war on children was sacrilegious for them, but he felt that no other action would do. The Centaurs had lived near the wizard school for centuries. A few humans had been allowed to enter the Forest. Most had been harassed for trespassing. The two communities stayed apart, but the children of the wizards had never been threatened.

Bane called the other Centaurs around him and explained what he wanted to do. They listened. Their faces were hard at first, and then they showed horror and shame. Bane told them that they had no choice.

"I say we must do this, and force the humans to yield the Shrine back to us. If any of you disagree, then he must find another way."

"We could fight the adults," said Ronan. "At least we would die with honor."

"A death in battle is honor, yes. But what about afterwards? Where would be the honor of letting the manes and the foals die alone in the Forest?" He gestured toward one of the Centaurs. "Galmet's foal couldn't be brought into the Herd. If we don't recover the Circle soon, it will be too late for him, and he will not be the last one."

No one else spoke.He could see that they believed him. They marched back toward the camp. Bane knew that each would be thinking about an alternative to his plan. He doubted they would find one.

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

"What happened here?" exclaimed Dumbledore.

There was a strong smell of burnt clothes and singed hair in the room. Severus was just starting to get up, Draco was helping him. He looked as if a lighting bolt had struck him. His robe was burned and torn in several places. His face and hands covered in soot, and his normally long shiny black hair was puffed around his head.

To those who had witnessed the powerful display, it was anything but funny. The noise and the bolts of energy had surprised and frightened them violently. But to Hermione and the Headmaster, it looked exactly like the result of a chemistry lab prank, and Severus didn't seem dangerously wounded. Hermione had to bite down her lip to stop herself from smiling.

"I don't know," said Draco with deadly seriousness. "It happened just a few minutes ago. Professor Snape was examining the center of the stone circle, when it sort of blew up with a lot of bright lights." He looked at the now quiescent pillars. "This thing is incredibly dangerous. I'm never putting a foot on it again, and I urge everyone to do the same."

Dumbledore considered the circle and felt wonder. He was certain that he had never seen it, but despite that, it felt eerily familiar. He could sense the magic emanating from it. Something clicked in the Headmaster's mind, and then he understood exactly what had happened. He looked at Snape and his lips twitched. The potion master looked indignantly back, Dumbledore said nothing but the twitching became more pronounced and his eyes danced.

"Albus-"

Dumbledore gave up trying to hold it in. He opened his mouth and roared with laughter. It was too much. He could hear Hermione laughing as well. She must have understood it too. In his mind he pictured a serious and dour faced Severus among the pillars, when he had unconsciously called upon the power of the circle.

Severus watched the Headmaster shake with mirth. Now he was certain that the man was stark raving crazy. Mentally, he began to compose an application for a teaching position at Durmstrang,

Dumbledore couldn't help it. All the tension of the past weeks was pouring out in his laughter. He didn't understand everything, but it fitted with little hints he had heard about the special links between the Hogwarts Headmaster and a reserve of power associated to the school.

_Power ... Merlin!_

A dramatic transformation came over his features. Hilarity left him as quickly as it had come and he looked stricken. They all reacted immediately.

"Albus, what is it?" asked McGonagall.

"This." He gestured toward the circle. "_This_ is what they want. It is an incredible source of power, a nexus of concentration for magical energy. Oh, Severus. I am utterly sorry."

He waived his wand to restore his appearance as best as he could. Severus grunted his thanks, not quite forgiving him. His face still felt toasted like after a bad sunburn. Dumbledore explained what he had just intuited, and how it would defeat his last desperate plan.

"I was confident that it was impossible to duplicate Gringotts, but I had not counted on such a device. It would certainly give them a real chance of success."

"But they still can't get at it," said Draco. "It's here. It's even probably only attuned to the Headmaster." He suddenly realized. "Oh! You think that they would try to replace you?"

"That is possible, but it may not be necessary. As you should remember, there are others, probably all over the world. All they have to do is find out where another one is."

"They probably already know," said Hermione. "That other castle. There must be a circle over there as well. Harry, do you have the Omniglasses?"

Harry took out the glasses from the bag where they kept all the documents. They looked at the model Dobby had seen in Boocrat's house. None of the teachers recognized it, and unfortunately Dobby had not looked at it with a much details as Hogwarts.

They talked about it a little more, but they were all tired and excited. Once again, too much had happened for them to be able to analyze the situation properly. They decided that this last mystery could keep for the night. The Headmaster announced that he would increase the wards around the school. He cast a last look at the circle before leaving.

_The Founders must have known of it. It must serve some purpose for the school, perhaps more than one. How fascinating._

They went up the long stairway and separated. The first thing that Dumbledore did when he entered his quarters was to take a chocolate mint from the bowl of treats.

- - -

_Forbidden Forest,_

The trio and Flitz had devised a simple system for coordinating theirreunions. Whichever party wanted to initiate a meeting for the next evening, would simply turn over a bi-colored stone at a pre-arranged spot on the Forest's edge. Flitz would visit it at night, and Silena or one of the twins would check it every morning, or position it the night before.

This time it was the young Centaur who was asking to see them. Alicia had checked the signal just before classes. They had waited impatiently all day, and when diner was finally over, they checked out quietly out of the school toward the Forest.

"Flitz?"

It was a moonless night and very dark. They walked around the meeting area, trying to spot the Centaur, but it was almost impossible to see further than a few meters into the forest.

"Here!"

They greeted each other eagerly. Flitz was bursting with excitement.

"There was a very big meeting of the Herd this morning. Pure Ones came to speak with the elders. Most have left, but some are still around."

"Pure Ones? You mean Unicorns!"

"Yes. I thought that you would like to see them."

"You bet we would, but ..." Richard looked anxious. "Does that mean that we would need to go into the Forest?"

"Of course. I will lead you. It is not very far."

"Er, isn't it supposed to be very dangerous?" said Silena nervously.

"Do you want to see Unicorns or not?" asked Alicia. "I do, and if you won't come, then I'm going alone."

"Hey! You can't do that," exclaimed Richard.

"Yes I can. It's you who can't stop me from going, but you can come with me and Flitz."

Silena and Richard glared at her.

_Gryffindors. They always have to rush in when it's unsafe._

"Okay. We're coming, but if we get killed, I'm blaming you."

Flitz had been waiting impatiently for them. When they made their decision, he turned and started to walk toward the Centaur camp. However, traveling in the Forest proved to be more complicated than he had thought. The humans couldn't see the path, which surprised him. His Sight was showing the trees and all living creatures clearly. He hadn't imagined that his friends would be as handicapped as he remembered being before First Stone. He allowed them to cast _Lumos_ spells, but they would have to put them out when they would get next to the camp. If the Centaurs caught them, there would be hell to pay.

They walked in silence, until they suddenly felt a strange presence in their minds, which transformed into a crystal clear thought.

_Welcome._

Flitz recognized the same Pure One who had been at his side at the ritual.

"Greetings to you, Laurell. These are my friends."

_I know. They are welcome as well._

The three children were too stunned to speak, or even to think clearly. Alicia intensified her spell and saw the Unicorn standing a few meters from her.

"Er, good evening," said Richard. "We're just, ah, visiting." He wasn't sure if they shared the same prejudices as the Centaurs against humans sharing their Forest.

_You wanted to see us, and I needed to meet you. But this is not a proper place. _

The thoughts rang in their head like beautiful music. They looked at the incredibly white shape before them. It actually glowed in the dark now. As they watched, the glow increased and seemed to extend to patches of the ground under him, and then gradually to the vegetation around them. It was a strange light which appeared to come from inside some things, but not all. Stones and dirt remained black, only leaves, wood and insects glowed.

_I have given you a measure of Sight. Follow me._

He started to trot away, in a different direction from the one they had been taking. Mesmerized, they followed him deeper into the Forbidden Forest.


	31. Chapter 30 Battle for the Children

_The Centaurs have no choice. They must convince the Wizards to give them back their circle. Meanwhile, Silena, the Parkers and Flitz receive a history lesson and Helen visits Hogsmeade._

* * *

**_Chapter 30 – The battle for the children_**

_Hogsmeade, The Three Broomsticks,_

Helen was finishing her soup, sitting at a table near the fireplace, and listening to the low voiced stories a pair of wizards were telling each other. They talked in slow deliberate phrases, between puffs of smoke from their long pipes, and draughts from tankers of ale.

_It could be two hundred years ago in a typical country village. Except that it's probably real stories, and not legends._

The old fashioned community of Hogsmeade fascinated her. She had been using her newfound liberty to visit magical places. The previous Sunday, Severus had taken her on a tour around northern England. It had been thoroughly enjoyable for both of them. In a rare show of candor, he had told her that he would never have imagined himself playing tourist, but that it was actually very pleasant. They had returned via the inn at a rather late hour, and he had suggested to her that she try the food there one evening. She had proposed making it a date for the next day, but he had showed embarrassed reticence, and replied that he couldn't guarantee his presence anytime soon. The school took a lot of his time during the week, especially with the Headmaster's absence. Helen had sensed that he still wanted to keep a measure of distance between them, and she hadn't insisted.

"Everything all right?" asked Rosmerta, interrupting her reverie.

Helen looked up and saw the smiling face of the innkeeper. A cheerful young witch whom she had barely talked to, except to exchange pleasantries or to pass commands.

"Oh yes, everything's fine. The soup is very good," she replied automatically. She had been so intent on the stories, and in her musing, that she had forgotten to eat.

Rosmerta grinned and nodded toward the two talking wizards, bending her head to whisper to her.

"They've been repeating the same old yarns for years. Usually they go home by now, but since you were listening so attentively, they're probably going to give you the full repertoire. Your soup must be getting cold. Do you want me to warm it up for you?"

"Er, yes please thank you."

The witch took out her wand and discretely waved it over the plate. Helen noticed that she had positioned herself in such a way that none of the other customers could see her doing it. She gave Helen a wink and started to turn away.

"Thanks ..." began Helen. Rosmerta saw the hesitation on her face and stopped. "Would you like to join me?" added Helen. "If you have the time that is."

"Sure. I've got a couple of things to clean up, but it will only take a few minutes. It will be with pleasure."

Ten minutes later, the two wizards had left, and Helen had finished her meal. She was the last customer in the place. Rosmerta came back with a bottle and two glasses. They talked pleasantly. Helen asked her about living in the village, and what most of the inhabitant were doing. The other woman told her that it was a fairly simple existence.

"If you want action, you should try the London scene, or the other big cities. There's a sizeable community in Edinburgh."

"Yes. I was there yesterday with Severus. He showed me the hidden port where the Merpeoples fishermen live."

Rosmerta looked at her pointedly. She'd been very curious about the relationship between the Hogwarts professor and this woman.

"It's funny. We don't get many Muggles around here, and I know you're not a Squid." She smiled to show that it didn't mean anything to her. "And it was hard enough imagining professor Snape in love with anybody but a full blooded witch."

"He's not in love with me," said Helen sharply. Her relaxed demeanor disappeared immediately.

"Oh! I'm sorry. Seeing the two of you together the other week, I thought ... Please forgive me."

Helen stayed silent a moment. When she spoke, her voice was controlled.

"We are very good friends. That's all," she said, her face neutral.

Rosmerta considered her carefully. Working in a bar, she had witnessed enough heartbreaks to recognize the signs, and she found the Muggle woman nice enough to want to empathize with her. There was evidently a problem there, and in her experience, there was one proven way to address it. Without asking, she filled both their glasses again.

"You can talk to me about it if you want," she said softly.

Helen started to shake her head, but when she saw the sympathy on the innkeeper's face, she stopped. They were about the same age, and both women. In truth she really wanted to speak with someone about her thwarted feelings, but there was no one among her friends who could understand. She took a swallow of drink and shrugged.

"I suppose it's an old story." She smacked her lips and took another sip. It was good stuff. She was rather partial to whiskey herself, but this was something else. Plenty of alcohol and sugar. A hint of berries. Definitively homemade. "It could be worse too, so I'm not complaining."

"But it hurts, right?" said Rosmerta.

Helen finished her glass in one shot. The excessive swallow burned her throat, but the buzz in her head made up for it.

"Yeah. Its hurts." She winced as she recalled the memory of that dreadful evening. She held out her glass for more. Rosmerta obliged. "It hurts _bad._" She finished the phrase with a choke.

Her companion didn't say anything, except for a few appropriate words of encouragement, and Helen gradually told her the whole story. Not with all the details, but enough to make the other woman understand, and to make herself feel better for the talking. Rosmerta was surprised at the description of professor Snape. The cold and silent wizard was shown as someone with real human emotions, although certainly not simple ones.

Helen was really feeling the drink now, but she was still holding it fairly well.

"I keep telling myself that I should move on." She shrugged. "You know, look for someone else, but when I see him, I know he's the right one." She sighed. "I'd give a lot to know what he really feels. Sometimes when he looks at me, I almost think ... Aw, the hell with it!"

She threw the empty glass across the table. It fell on the floor and rolled against the fireplace. Helen brought her hand to her mouth to keep herself from crying. Rosmerta watched with silent compassion. She knew better than to offer advice at that stage. This was not a time for analysis, but for letting out the pain.

Helen straightened up and realized what she had done. She mumbled excuses, but Rosmerta recovered the glass with a practiced _Accio_ and replaced it on the table. All of her glassware was strengthened with unbreakable charms.

"No harm done," she said. "Do you want some more?" Helen shook her head, and closed her eyes at the vertigo.

"Thanks. I think I've had enough. I'd better go now."

She grimaced at the prospect of getting back to her flat. Floo travel was disorientating enough at the best of time. She didn't relish the prospect of trying it drunk. Rosmerta thought the same thing.

"I got a couple of rooms," she said. "None are taken right now. Why don't you stay here for the night?"

Helen looked back with tired eyes. Certainly she could afford it. She nodded carefully.

"Yeah, not a bad idea."

She stood up, not quite steady on her feet. Rosmerta helped her. The drink didn't affect her at all. She indicated the way to the bedrooms. There was a stairway, and they made their way together with Helen holding on to her arm.

"The door on the right. Yes that one." The innkeeper was thinking that at least it didn't look as if she was going to be sick or anything. Helen took a tentative step into the room, then suddenly remembering something, she turned around and thrust out her hand with that unique mix of seriousness and dignity which inebriated people have.

"Thank you!"

Rosmerta took the hand and grinned.

"Will you manage all right?" she asked.

Helen nodded firmly and stumbled toward the bed. There wasn't any bathroom. Only a small sink with a pitcher of water and some towels in one corner. Rosmerta stayed only long enough to be sure that she would be fine, and then she closed the door and left.

- - -

_Forbidden Forest,_

They walked for a long time, following the Unicorn in the forest. The Sight showed them the trail, which twisted and turned around trees and other obstacles. Flitz managed to keep track of distance and direction, but the humans were completely lost after the first few minutes. It was hard going too. At first, the sense of wonder was enough to keep them going, but it had been a long day and they were very tired now, especially Silena who was ready to drop.

_We will stop soon_.

The Unicorn's thought startled them. It was truly incredible to have someone speak inside your mind like that. The trail was wider here, and it sloped a little. They were climbing a low hill. Alicia and Richard each took one of Silena's hands and helped the younger girl up the climb. She was too exhausted even to protest.

There was less vegetation here, and so it was darker. They walked a little more, and then they saw an opening in a rock face. It was a cave entrance. Laurell went in and they followed. The walls glowed softly, but it was more because of natural phosphorescence than from Sight. Here and there, quartz-like crystals where embedded in the rock face. The air was also warmer than outside. Richard extended his hand, and he sensed that the heat came from the crystals. There were more and more of them as they moved inside, and soon the temperature was quite comfortable. They finally arrived into an enclosed space with a soft mossy floor. A small stream of water flowed along one of the side. Several shrubby trees were planted. Yellow and red fruits could be seen hanging from the branches. Laurell stopped and kneeled on the ground.

_You can rest now. Eat and drink if you want, and then sleep._

The children were too tired to eat. Silena fell asleep immediately, followed by Alicia. Richard and Flitz drank some water. A minute later they were all sleeping soundly.

They slept, and they dreamed. It was a strange dream. In it, there were Unicorns, Centaurs and humans. All living together in a place which looked to be near the sea, or at least a great lake. The water was blue and very still. It was a primitive life. The Centaurs hunted wild beasts. The humans cultivated fields. They shared the food between themselves, but most of the time they just lived their lives. The Unicorns didn't seem to do anything but move around.

It was a picture of peaceful bucolic co-existence, but some things were strange. The lighting was odd. The air was filled with a very faint luminous fog, which was concentrated around all living creatures. It was very dense around Unicorns, and only barely visible around the humans, or the youngest of Centaurs. Somehow, they knew that the fog was not normally visible to them. They only saw it in the dream because of something that Laurell was doing. He was showing them his vision. They could hear his thoughts, like a guide commenting a film.

_This was the beginning._

The dream changed, and now it showed a small group of Centaurs facing several Unicorns. One of the Centaurs was a young foal, about Flitz's age. The Unicorns formed a circle with him in the middle, and then the fog concentrated and rays of lights darted from the ground. They saw the Ritual, and in the dream they understood what was happening to the young Centaur. He was being awakened to sentient adulthood. Afterwards, they could see the increased concentration of fog around him.

Other things were showed. Centaurs looking at the heavens, seeing fascinating signs, and sometimes visions, and trying to interpret them. They saw humans working wood and leather with archaic tools. The place was actually an island, in the middle of a great blue sea. Somehow they understood that something was wrong. It was too simple. The Centaurs acted like well trained pets, showing none of the intelligence that they normally had. A few human shamans did magic, but only clumsily. They had no wands, and they barely had the knowledge to make primitive potions. The luminous fog was denser around them than for the other humans, but not that much.

One Centaur had a vision in one of their star gazing session. Of a young human with an aura as bright as a Unicorn. Centaurs came next to him, and their own auras brightened. The vision was difficult to understand.

They saw a human woman giving birth to a baby in the middle of a great round space. The ground was made of pale stone, and the air was bright with golden light, intensifying as the moment approached. When the baby was born, a distinct aura of fog was visible around him, brighter than any human or Centaur. The child grew up, and he was shown spending a lot of time with the Centaurs. He became an apprentice shaman and his aura became ever brighter. One day, a group of Centaur went to see him and gave him a horn taken from a Unicorn who had fallen from a cliff and died. The human took it and began to do magic with it, using it like a makeshift wand. They could see how it directed the light of his aura like a hose, and it changed the luminous fog around him as well. There was no one to teach him but the Centaurs, and all they did was show him the changes, but he was learning slowly how to use this new power. Silena and the Parkers saw him make the same mistakes as the other first years, and they could see that he was becoming like a wizard.

_He was the first one of your kind._

The wizard returned regularly to the place of his birth. His magic was much more powerful there. One day he got the Centaurs and the Unicorns to do their ritual there. Placing the Unicorns around the rim. The lights and images were spectacular, and when it was finished, three of the Unicorns were dead, but the young Centaur's aura was much brighter. The other Centaurs were alarmed, but the surviving Unicorns didn't seem distressed. They left their dead comrades and went away as if nothing serious had happened. The wizard looked at the dead bodies for a long time. The luminous fog was brighter and rising rapidly around them. At the next initiation, all that remained of the Unicorn were their skulls, complete with horn, which had been disposed at the ends of a triangle. One living Unicorn stood with the foal. This time no one died, and the aura of the young Centaur was much brighter.

_They discovered a great secret. Some of us had to die, but we accepted it._

The dream accelerated and showed them more wizards and Centaurs being initiated near the circle of stone. The Centaurs moved with more dignity, they were clearly intelligent creatures now. The wizards kept together and the other humans seemed to worship them. A temple was built around the Circle, with a great city surrounding the place. There was a port and ships could be seen coming and going. Time passed and the prosperity of the city grew. From afar, the temple looked like three enormous Unicorn heads looking inwards, their horns almost touching. The wizards became ever more powerful. They walked proudly and did spectacular magic with their horn wands. The rest of the humans treated them like gods. The Centaurs were still regularly initiated, some stayed with the wizards and studied magic, compiling volumes of secret lore. Some of the Centaurs preferred to live away from the city. Unicorns were free to come and go, as unconcerned as ever. They were treated as sacred animals, even by the wizard-kings.

The dream showed other circles elsewhere, with lesser temples and cities built around them. One wizard discovered the use of stone pillars for traveling between circles. They watched as a network of gateways was built. The pillars were consecrated with Unicorn bones and blood. Wizards would use them to travel to distant lands. Years pasted and a great civilization was developing, absorbing the other human communities, sometimes peacefully, sometimes by conquest. None could stand against them.

_They grew too ambitious. They used the magic until it destroyed them._

One day something terrible happened. The temple exploded in a tremendous eruption. The city was destroyed and most of the island blown away. All that was visible at first was a gigantic cloud of smoke and dust, and falling debris littering the surface of the sea. A few survivors floated away in makeshift rafts and tree logs, some of them were clutching burned relics and books, and then there were those who had been away from the catastrophe. The blast was transmitted to the other Circles, but with lesser damage.

_The first Shrine was gone, but the others remained._

The dream showed new communities of Centaurs and Unicorns regrouping around the remaining Circles. There were still a few wizards, but now they stayed hidden. New human civilizations developed, but they feared magic. Anyone, human or other, showing signs of supernatural power was hunted and sometime killed, and the people kept away from the area around the circles. Science and technology transformed the world, and magical creatures were gradually isolated in concealed areas. They had lost their world, and because of this they resented the humans.

Wizards and witches were usually solitary. They would experiment, create relics and write books, which they would then hide, and which others would seek out. Sometimes a wizard would rediscover a Circle, and understand its power. He would use it, but usually only for himself and then only for special purposes. At the end of his life, he would hide it even more, and he would try to destroy any books mentioning these secrets.

That was the case with Merlin and Camelot. That period was a brief moment of peace in the magical world, more wizards were recognized, and a few communities rebuilt. It didn't last. When Merlin disappeared, there came a time of even greater trouble. The castle's emplacement was removed from the memory of men and Centaurs. The Circle where Hogwarts would eventually be built was still used, but only by the Centaurs. Terrible conflicts were waged with the humans for the control of the area. Flitz and his friends whimpered in their sleep as they were shown mutual massacres and atrocities. After years of mayhem, no man or wizard would dare enter what had become the Forbidden Forest. In addition, Dark Wizards would regularly bring war and devastation in the rest of the world as well. Thankfully, none of them ever found a Circle.

_The one you call Merlin was not the last one, after him came those who created your school._

The story of Hogwarts and the Founders followed. The children watched in awe as the four wizards and witches meet one day with a Unicorn in the Forest. Without being told, they knew that the creature was Laurell himself. They talked and he led them to the ruins of Camelot. Eventually the treaty with the Centaurs was brokered, with other powerful wizards of the time as witnesses and signatories. Then the Founders constructed the castle over the cave, while the Centaurs began to use Camelot for their Rituals.

_That was the past. Most of this story has been forgotten. I have shown you this so that you can understand, and help the humans and the Centaurs live together again. I will now show you the present._

The following scenes showed Electra and the rest of the Brotherhood working their machinations. In the dream, she was shown as a fascinating creature. Her aura was brighter than most wizards, and they could sense her ruthlessness and ambition. Combined with her unearthly beauty, the result was truly frightening. Laurell showed them the desecration rituals at Camelot, the manipulations against Hermione and of Ron, and finally the alteration of the treaty, with the evil witch leading them. They didn't understand everything, but the general meaning was clear. A group of Wizards had taken over the Centaur's Shrine. They saw the failure of the Ritual for Galmet's foal, and then the fate of Bane's expedition to the ruins. Flitz wailed when he saw his father attacked, and it was even worse when Lyman was killed by the Golems.

_The Centaurs are going to attack the human children. They fear that the Shrine has been taken from them. They have forgotten that there is another one, the one your friends have found._

Laurell woke them up. Flitz was sobbing with abandon. Silena rushed to hug and console him. Alicia did the same and Richard felt the tears run down his face. He turned toward the Unicorn who was watching them serenely.

"That was awful! Why did they do that? What do they want?" he demanded.

_They want what most humans want. Power over the world. They will fail, but many will suffer and die. _

Alicia had been stroking Flitz's mane. Silena had her arms around his chest. She was telling him that it was terrible about Lyman, but that his father had only suffered a small wound, and that it would be all right.

"I lost my parents, but I still have my brother, and I have my friends," she said. "Bad things happen, but with friends, the hurt can go away."

"We're your friends," added Alicia. "And we will find a way." She turned toward Laurell. "What can be done to stop this woman?"

_I do not know. I have told you the truth so that you can do something._

Richard was puzzled. It was difficult to understand how the Unicorn could be both so knowledgeable and yet so passive.

_It is not in our nature to decide freely. Humans decide, and sometimes we sense that it is time to contact one of them, and assist them._

"Why us?" asked Richard to Laurell "I mean, we'll do all we can of course, but why don't you tell the Headmaster yourself?"

_Because it is your fate, and because you are young ones. The old ones respect us, but their minds are closed. They cannot communicate with us. You will find a way and I will help you._

The children looked at each other. Flitz had stopped crying, but he was evidently letting his friends speak. Like the Unicorn, he sensed that this was a human problem, and they were the only ones who could solve this.

"We've got to get word to Harry and the others," said Richard firmly. "They'll know what to do."

"What about the teachers?" asked Silena.

They knew that the Headmaster had returned, but no one had seen him yet, and there had been all those stories about the strange role he had been playing.

"I don't know," Richard was thinking like a Slytherin, and therefore naturally wary of sharing secrets. Harry and Hermione didn't trust the teachers. They had made up with their friends, but he hadn't seen any change concerning the rest of the staff. "Let them decide what to tell the adults. The Centaurs could use the Circle at Hogwarts, but I'm not sure that everybody would agree to share it. We'll play it safe."

"And what about that other place?" said Alicia. "That horrible woman is going to return there and take over the Circle. We've got to stop her before it's too late."

_I can take you there._

"How can we get to the Shrine?" asked Richard visibly frightened. "Those demons will attack us!"

_Flitz would be attacked, but not me, and not humans. But it must be done soon. When the woman returns, then even humans will be kept out._

"All right", said Richard, making his decision. "We'll have to split. Flitz can't go to the Shrine, so he'll be the one going back to Hogwarts."

"I'll go with him," said Silena. She looked at the young Centaur. "Can I ride on your back?"

Flitz hesitated. He had heard stories about how humans used horses, and how humiliating it would be for a Centaur to be treated thus. He had accepted the words of his people, and even though he didn't see what the problem really was, it still felt somehow _improper_.

_There is no shame in what she proposes._

"All right," said Flitz. "I can take you because you are small, and because you are my friend."

"Good," said Richard. "Silena, you ask to see Harry or Draco and no one else. Alicia and I will go to Shrine with Laurell. I only hope that we'll get there in time."

_We will._

"Can you see the future?" asked Alicia. There had been some indication of that, but she remembered Hermione's opinion of seers.

_Yes. I could see more. But I will not._

"Why?" inquired Richard.

_Because then the future would be inevitable._

They wanted to ask more questions, but Laurell told them that time was of the essence. He told them to eat before leaving. They tried the fruits, which were delicious, and drank from the stream. When they were sated and refreshed, they came out of the cave and it was time to separate.

"Tell the others where we are," said Richard. "We'll be waiting for them over there."

They took leave of each other, and then they were off, each toward a different destination. Alicia and Richard riding on the Unicorn's back, and Silena on Flitz's. Dawn was rising and the two mounts galloped quickly through the Forest. Four children and a Unicorn, rushing to save the world.

- - -

_Hogsmeade,_

Rosmerta laid the laden platter on the floor and knocked on the door. A sleepy grunt answered her.

"Breakfast ready," she said. "Can I come in?"

"Er, yes."

Helen pushed away the sheet which was covering her and rubbed her eyes. The door opened and she sat up straighter in the bed. She had slept well in the big old-fashioned bed, and the drink didn't leave that much of a hangover. Watching the innkeeper maneuver the big tray, she made room for it next to her. She saw that there were two cups.

"Business is scarce this morning," said Rosmerta. "I thought that I'd join you, unless you'd rather be alone."

"No." She smiled her thanks. "I'll be glad for the company, and I certainly appreciated it last night."

"It comes with the service," said Rosmerta with a shrug. "Two Galleons a night, including consoling and breakfast."

"Cheap at the price."

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

The Centaurs were tired by the long march and the sleepless night, but they were more determined than ever. They had returned to the camp and made their report. A major council of war had been organized. Bane had explained his plan. Capture the wizards' children to force them to give them back access to the Shrine. The Herd was horrified, but none had come up with a better idea, so in the end they had agreed. It would be easy enough. There were always some of them playing in the woods near the village, and they could also count on a Hogwarts class doing field work. The Centaurs didn't know much about wizard society, but Bane figured that school children might be considered more important that those of the villagers, and so they would go for them first.

That day, it was the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years who were having Care of Magical Creature class in the first morning period. None of them detected the Centaurs watching them from behind the tree line. Bane gave the signal and a heavy spear with a large padded tip was thrown with force. It struck professor McMurphy in the back of her head, knocking her out instantly. Two groups of hard faced Centaurs then rushed out of the forest, holding out big nets and gathering the surprised children in them. It was shameful work, but the whole Herd had agreed that it should be done. They would all share the blame.

Some children got away, but that was to be expected, and not really important. The rest were fettered using Devil's Snare. Not too tightly to risk hurting them, but enough so that they could not escape. Their wands were collected and given to Bane. The group returned quickly inside the Forest. Some students cried, others made feeble attempts to resist, but it was pointless, and most were too terrified to do more than obey.

- - -

_Hogsmeade,_

Firenze forced himself to do his part. Mercifully, he had been given the easier assignment of going after the village. His leg was hurting, but he welcomed the pain, it helped him not to think about what the Herd was doing to those he had once accepted to teach. He was also sick with grief about Lyman, and terribly worried about Flitz. No one knew where he was. All that, in addition to the fatigue, made him wonder if he wasn't living some kind of elaborate nightmare from which he would finally wake up.

Capturing the village children was even easier than the students, but getting away proved more difficult. One witch witnessed the kidnapping and sounded the alarm. She was stunned with another padded spear, but a group of wizards heard her screams. They were old men, and not very powerful, but they fought desperately. One Centaur was blasted by a _Stupefy_ spell. His magic resistance allowed him to recover quickly, but not before other villagers could pelt him with stones, and hex him with clumsy cutting spells. Firenze watched on helplessly as other Centaurs used their bows against them. In the end their troop managed to get away with some children, but one wizard lay in pool of blood, another was screaming and holding his transpierced leg, and the wounded Centaur had to be half carried away.

Helen had just finished dressing up, when she heard the commotion. She came down just in time to watch Rosmerta receive the injured wizards. They were stretched out on the long tables. Upon learning of what had happened, Helen told the innkeeper to call the school, and make sure the other children were safe. Soon afterwards, Madam Pomfrey jumped out of the fireplace.

"Where are the wounded?" she asked. "Oh my!"

She began to care for the two wizards. The arrow in the leg was a minor wound, but the other one was more serious.

"He'll live, but I better get him to the school infirmary right away. Someone help me please. What new folly is this? Centaurs attacking the students, and now the villagers."

"What do you mean an attack on the students?" asked Helen, suddenly anxious. "What happened? Are Alicia or Richard-" Madam Pomfrey shook her head.

"Not them. It was the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw first years."

Helen volunteered to help the healer carry the injured wizard, both in a sincere desire to help, but also to check on her children. No one objected. They floo'ed to the infirmary. The wounded was placed in a bed, and Helen assisted in undressing him and applying some first aid. She was getting ready to leave when Severus came in with his potion kit. He was surprised at seeing her. She explained about the circumstances and saw him frown immediately.

"Severus, what is it? Richard is all right isn't he?" The potion master looked insecure.

"I suppose so, but I have not seen him this morning, nor Silena or Alicia." He saw her blanch and tried to reassure her. "But that does not mean anything. They might have gotten breakfast earlier than usual. It happened before."

"Could we check please?" she asked. "Normally I wouldn't presume to ask you, but seeing what happened..."

"Certainly. That is already being done. All the students are been assembled in the hall. I suggest we go and see them."

Helen followed him anxiously, an uncomfortable feeling of tightness in her chest. They entered the great hall which was filled with teachers and students. There was considerable noise while the prefects were checking the presence of each student and transmitting the tallies to McGonagall. Helen looked around anxiously for Richard or Alicia, but they were nowhere to be seen. Her eyes fell on Hermione who was interrogating a young girl. She raised her head and they looked at each other. Helen knew from the grimace on her face that what she feared was indeed so. Harry was coming in at a run, holding a large piece of yellowed folded paper in his hand. He went to one of the professors and they moved apart from the others to examine it. Hermione caught Ginny's arm and gestured toward Helen. She nodded soberly and took over the questioning. Hermione and Helen walked quickly toward each other.

- - -

_Forbidden Forest,_

In the end, they captured five village children in addition to the students. All were taken to the Centaur's camp and locked into a large hut. The camp was well protected by the animal and plant friends of the Centaurs. The trees overhead were tall with thick branches and foliage. The vegetation around them was very dense, limiting access through a maze of easily defended paths. An army of wizard could attack them, but they would be detected long before coming near the camp. The Centaurs were prepared to fight to the last, and to take the children with them.

All this was explained to one of the older students, a Ravenclaw named Daphne Reinder. She was to take back a message to the wizard authorities: Give us back the Shrine, or you will never find your foals alive. The terrified girl was escorted back to the Forest's edge and set free. As soon as she could, she ran toward the main gates.

- - -

_Ministry of magic,_

Trevor Themis was puzzled. The last Wizengamot meeting had gone perfectly well, and he had been looking forward to further enjoyment of Electra's presence. She had to be happy with the way things were progressing, and when she was happy ... well it got very stimulating.

So he had passed the afternoon in anticipation of another _electrifying_ evening with her. He told himself that he wasn't in love. He didn't like the word, and the implication of dependence and puerile weakness it carried. Great wizards didn't fall in love, and he planned on becoming great one day, a power to be reckoned with. Besides, Electra was clearly not the kind of woman who would tolerate such bondage. No, they were allies, well more properly vassal and lord, and they shared an intimate relationship. That was a more comfortable way of putting it. At six P.M, he realized that he hadn't seen Shrummer of the entire afternoon. His secretary kept repeating that he was not available. Trevor had gone home with irrational feelings of being abandoned. He had spent the rest of the evening waiting for a sign from Electra, but there had been none, and the day had ended in painful frustration.

If truth needed to be told, Trevor was completely infatuated with the woman. His rationalization allowed him to believe he still had a measure of control, but in reality he was as distracted as a starry eyed teenager, and nothing more than putty in her hand.

That morning, he had returned to the Ministry feeling edgy and impatient. The lesser officials he worked with became quickly aware of it. The most insignificant mishap drew snappish remarks of discontent, and the authors of minor mistakes were reprimanded as if they had committed serious misdemeanors. His personal staff reacted in the best tradition of such organizations. Walk as softly as possible, bury all the bad news, and above all, do not disturb the Boss unless absolutely necessary.

Of course incoming floo calls, and urgent messages had to be passed on. A trembling secretary gathered her courage before knocking on his door and announcing that a woman named Electra was urgently seeking a (gasp) unscheduled appointment. She fully expected to have her head bitten off, but instead of this, her superior's face lit up. He immediately thanked her, and could she please put the caller through. A few seconds later, Trevor was seeing Electra's lovely face in the floo terminal. He greeted her enthusiastically and she laughed at his expression.

"Missed me?" she asked mischievously.

"Of course!" He checked himself. "Well, yesterday I'd hoped ..."

"Yesterday I had to do something very important and very tiring," she explained. "It lasted until late evening, and then I went home and slept until a few minutes ago."

Trevor was immensely relieved. She hadn't forgotten him, and she was calling him as soon as she could. She was wonderful, and he was a fool to have doubted her. Electra watched his face with amusement. She could read him like a book, but he was cute, and it made her feel good to play with him. She told herself that she deserved a treat before finishing the business at Camelot. Another thought occurred to her, and she wondered if she should bring him further into the Brotherhood. He was young, but some of council members like Thelas were more hindrance than assets. It wouldn't hurt to add more loyal troops. She made her decision.

"Busy this morning?" she asked with a wicked grin.

Trevor read the promise on her face and felt his blood quicken. It was dereliction of duty pure and simple, but no one would dare make a remark if he was absent for a couple of hours. He was the confident of the new Minister after all.

"Nothing that can't wait," he answered, matching her grin.

"Good. I'll be waiting for you, and afterward I'll take you to a special place. A very special place."

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

"Eighteen students are missing," said Hermione. "That includes thirteen of those who had class outside this morning, two third years, and ..." She swallowed and forced herself to look at the other woman. "... Alicia, Richard and Silena." Helen gasped and Hermione continued quickly. "We're checking if they are not somewhere in the castle." She threw a quick look at Harry who was giving instruction to one of the Ravenclaw prefect. He caught her eyes and shook his head, his jaws grimly set.

"But," Helen was beginning to show signs of panic. "If they are not in the school, then where can they be?"

Hermione didn't say anything. There were several possibilities, most of them unpleasant.

Harry, and the professor he had been talking to, went to speak with Severus. Shortly afterwards, the three of them joined Helen and Hermione. The man was introduced as Remus Lupin, Harry's guardian.

"Two of the missing students have been accounted for. As for your children, it seems that they had befriended a young Centaur," said Severus, throwing a sour look at Remus who looked extremely ill at ease. "And that they often went out to meet together." He sighed. "Apparently they had such a meeting last night, and they didn't come back."

"No ..." said Helen.

"The Centaurs have never harmed children before," said Harry, both in defense of Remus' responsibility and to lessen her anxiety.

"Perhaps," replied Severus. "But that has certainly changed." He looked at her with a mixture of sympathy and guilt. "I am afraid that they have probably been captured as well, but I assure you that we will do everything in our power to get them back."

They were interrupted by a commotion at the Hall's entrance. A very young girl rushed in. Her uniform was soiled with dirt and torn in places. Her face was streaked with tears and she wailed.

"They took my wand. They took the others and my wand. They said they would kill them ..."

Dumbledore immediately moved to intercept her. He and professor Flitwick took her aside. Snape joined them, and they were seen trying to calm the child and talk with her. After a moment, she went away with professor Flitwick, and the Headmaster walked to the teacher's table. He asked for silence, and when the noise had finally abated, he spoke to announce what they knew.

"Something extremely serious has happened," he said gravely. "The Centaurs are apparently convinced that wizards have taken something of great value from them. It is not clear what that is, but they believe that its lack threatens their existence. They have captured the missing students, and other children from Hogsmeade, and they will only release them when their property will have been returned."

Cries of surprise and outrage sounded from the assistance. Questions were asked and confusion reigned once more until the professor could restore silence.

"Please, please. Miss Reinder has been released to bring us this ultimatum. From her description, we know that your comrades are unarmed, although they are certainly very frightened. I will look into this matter personally, and I urge all of you to stay inside the castle while I do that. The Centaurs cannot get inside, and I have already contacted the Ministry of Magic to provide exceptional security for the village. For now, I ask all students to return to your common rooms."

He signaled to Harry and his friends that they should stay. When the hall was deserted, the Headmaster invited them, as well as Severus, McGonagall, and Remus, to join him in a side room. Helen was wondering what to do, but she was asked to go with them. Severus whispered urgently to Slavius Tramyl, his assistant potion teacher, before going inside.

"I am happy to see you again, Mrs. Parker," said Dumbledore kindly. "It is unfortunate that it has to be in such circumstances."

"Will you be able to get them back?" she said anxiously. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Let me explain a few things first," said Dumbledore soothingly. "I am not sure that I should tell you all this, but you are there, and you are certainly involved. First of all, Miss Reinder, the young girl that the Centaurs released, did not see your children, nor Silena, among those captured. And from what I understand, the three of then have probably gone into the Forest last night."

"You mean that they've spend all night outside _alone_? But isn't that Forest a very dangerous place?" Helen was beginning to panic and Draco blanched. She suddenly turned toward Severus and exclaimed. "You told me that you would look after her! How could you let that happen?"

Severus' face showed a flurry of mixed emotion. Pain, guilt and something else which the others had never seen there. He stepped forward and took her arms gently.

"Helen, please I ..." He didn't finish but the anguish and compassion on his face was enough to make her desist. She looked back with imploring eyes and laid her head against him. Harry and Hermione watched in fascination as the potion master awkwardly wrapped his arms around her.

Dumbledore continued soothingly.

"Mrs. Parker. There is no cause for despair. If they stayed with their Centaur friend, then they were probably quite safe." He was being more confident than he should. There was no telling what could have happened, but this was a time for positive thinking. "In any case we will search for them independently, and that is something in which you can be of help to us."

"What is it? What can I do?" She jerked up her head to look at him. The old wizard's calming words were giving her back some hope. She willed herself to stay in control.

"I have been told that your daughter has recently received a transfusion from yourself." Helen nodded and he continued. "Excellent. This will make it possible to use your blood for a homing potion. We will only need a few drops, and the effect will not last long, but it can be repeated several times and it should enable us to locate her, and most probably your son and Miss Malfoy as well."

"We'll go with her," said Draco immediately, the others murmured their confirmations. Dumbledore shook his head.

"I suggest not. We need to act quickly, and I fear leaving the school undefended for any length of time. This may have nothing to do with our other troubles, but I do not want to take any chances." He caught Severus' eye and the other man confirmed the need for precaution.

"The Headmaster is right," he said. "This development has all the signs of a diversion. Remember that the Circle is possibly the target of our enemies. The six of you should stay here to defend it. Professor Dumbledore is the only one who can negotiate with the Centaurs. I will go with Helen to find her children and Silena."

"Let me go with you," said Remus. He locked eyes with Severus. "Please," he added

Severus considered the offer. The werewolf probably wanted to make up for his implicit encouragement in the three youths' imprudence. He would have done better to think about the risks before, but Severus could understand his position, and he certainly could be of help in the Forest.

"All right."

The Six were uneasy, and not a little frustrated, at the distribution of roles, but they had to admit that the Headmaster and professor Snape's arguments were sound. Someone knocked and Severus went to open the door. Tramyl handed him his portable brewing kit. The professor thanked him and rejoined them. Dumbledore explained the homing potion. A drop of blood would have to be taken from Helen and added at the last moment.

Seeing the black carrying case made Helen think of their experiments at the Imperial College. It seemed a long time away. Severus took out the necessary ingredients and set up the small cauldron. She admired once more his precise little gestures and the quick movements. He was working to get her daughter back, and she was grateful. At one moment their eyes locked and she forced a timid smile.

"Just like old times, isn't it?" she said softly.

He nodded. A tender expression flashed across his features for a brief instant, and then he returned to his work. The two of them didn't seem aware of the rest of the world. Harry and Hermione looked away in embarrassment, but Luna smiled. Dumbledore didn't interrupt his instructions, but inwardly, he too was happy to see the interaction between the two. The relationship appeared complicated, but the old wizard didn't really believe in simplicity.

The potion was prepared. Dumbledore explained that it had to brew for a few minutes.

"When it turns bluish," he said, "That is the signal to add the blood. Mrs. Parker, please?"

Helen's finger was pricked by a needle and three drops of blood added. The Headmaster then indicated the spell incantation to use.

"_Pointillino!_" said Severus, waving his wand over the cauldron. The blood coalesced into a long red arrow. Everyone immediately looked in that direction. Hermione tried to orient herself from the room they were in. The direction given was roughly to the east, straight toward the deep Forest.

"The size of the arrow is an indication of distance," explained the Headmaster. "In this case it looks like several kilometers. You will need to repeat this procedure until you are in the general area."

They would ride on brooms. The blood had to be fresh, so Helen had to accompany then. She would have insisted in any case. Severus did not really know what to think of it. It could be dangerous, and she was a Muggle, and therefore defenseless. Dumbledore created a portkey for them to get back.

_At least we'll have an escape route if things go bad._

"I will now go to talk with the Centaurs," said Dumbledore. "You three should leave immediately. May the spirit of Merlin assist us."


	32. Chapter 31 Camelot

_Camelot is where all the heroes meet. Action time. Remember that Helen plays AD&D, but it will never be the same again for her._

* * *

**_Chapter 31 – Camelot_**

_Camelot,_

The wild ride on the Unicorn's back was more comfortable than they would have thought. There was no saddle, but the creature's gallop was very smooth, and it was not as bony as a normal horse would have been. Actually, it was more like flying than anything else. Alicia was ecstatic. This was the kind of thing she'd dreamed of for years, an adventure pure and simple, with a vital mission and magical beings at their side. Richard was more reserved. The ride was fun, but he worried about what they were going to do at their destination.

After about an hour, they came out of the woods into an open space. The land was tall grass and gentle hills. The few trees were isolated and not very big. In the distance, they saw the broken shape of the ramparts. Laurell slowed down and they entered the ruins in total silence. There was not even the sound of a bird chirping, or of the wind rustling some tree's leaves. Richard remembered the statues which had attacked the Centaurs, and despite the Unicorn's previous assurance, he kept his wand firmly at hand.

"Are you sure it's going to be okay?" he asked anxiously.

_It is not dangerous for us now._

That didn't sound very reassuring as it implied that it _could_ become dangerous in the future.

"We've got to do this," affirmed Alicia. "It's important." Richard didn't say anything. He agreed with her, but this was the kind of thing which sensible Slytherins always tried to avoid.

They continued up to the entrance of a partially buried building. The Unicorn asked them to dismount and led them inside. Presently they entered a large room. In the center was a raised platform of stone, bordered by five dark pillars.

"That looks just like the one Harry and Hermione found at the school," said Alicia.

_Yes. The one you have seen is safe. It has been bonded to the school, to insure its prosperity. This one has not been used by wizards for a long time. It was pledged to the Centaurs, but now it is free to be possessed by any who wants it. The witch I showed you yearns to control it._

"How does it work?" asked Richard. At least they were gaining priceless knowledge.

Laurell trotted up to the center of the circle and called for them to join him. They were a little afraid, but they walked to his side, and then he called up the magic. They could see the silvery spokes of light jetting up from the ground, passing next and through them. At the same time, a low hum was heard. It was frightening, but also very exhilarating. This was a far cry from first year class experiments, or even Marauders secrets. Richard couldn't help wondering if it meant that they would become immensely powerful wizards, like the first shaman wizard they had seen in the dream.

_Would you really want such power? You have seen the consequences, and you already have something even better._

They heard him, but they were too fascinated to ask what he was talking about. The lights brightened until nothing else in the room was visible, only the black rectangles of the pillars, and then they weren't black anymore. They could see through them into what they knew to be distant lands, or other rooms and caves. Laurell indicated one of them.

_This is the path to your school. You could- Quick! Run away and hide!_

The thought was so urgent and imperious that they didn't even think before obeying. Laurell pushed them into the deep end of the room, and then he turned to face those who were just coming in.

"What is that thing doing here?" asked Electra in annoyance.

The light from her wand was feeble compared to the rays emanating from the circle. She and the scholar didn't notice or hear the two small figures running into the shadows. All they saw was the Unicorn standing inside the Power Circle, _their _Circle.

"Be careful Electra," warned Boocrat, frowning.

Even for someone as knowledgeable as he, Unicorns where still a mystery. He knew that they were partly sentient, as did she. The combination of one and a Circle hinted at unknown capabilities. His private opinion was to do nothing rash. One reason he had lived so long was a finely honed sense of cautiousness. But Electra did not share that attitude.

"Get out of here! This is my property!" she snapped, gesturing with her wand. Behind her she heard Sylvia and Trevor entering the room. Trevor gasped in surprise.

Laurell said nothing. The lights diminished and disappeared, and then the Circle became quiescent once more. He had never looked directly at his own future, but somehow, he knew that it was going to be decided very soon. One vision had told him that the children would play a role in this crisis. He had not dared see what that would be exactly, so he had just followed their wishes and brought them here.

"Get out I say, or I'll kill you!" declared Electra. She marched firmly up to the Circle, wand pointed at the creature.

Laurell recoiled from the viciousness of her mind. Unicorns were absolute pacifists, and that was a problem now. In theory, it would be possible for him to strike her down with the merest effort. He had all the power of the Shrine at his disposal, but no Unicorn had ever hurt any creature willingly, or even imposed his will on them. Such neutrality came with being the Pure Ones. He dared not cede the Shrine, however. She would have to kill him, and he didn't expect that she would hesitate. Perhaps that was his fate. Maybe it was even part of the solution. If that was the case, then he would accept it. It was after all, a very ancient and honorable tradition among his kind.

Trevor was troubled at seeing Electra threatening the Unicorn. He had never seen one before, but he shared in the universal reverence of these creatures. The others didn't seem unduly surprised by its presence. And they didn't look particularly respectful either. He wondered what this place really was. Electra had simply told him that it contained something which would make them all very powerful.

"Electra, do not use a curse," warned Boocrat anxiously. "The Circle is activated. There might be some backlash. We really should wait-"

"No," she broke him off impatiently. She lowered her wand and a cruel expression come over her face. "I will not wait, but don't worry. I won't need magic for this."

At her belt was a dagger with a vicious long blade. It made a clear ringing sound as she pulled it out of its scabbard. She stepped forward, pointed it at the Unicorn and ordered it to leave once more. Laurell didn't move and looked calmly at her. Electra moved closer, and repeated her command at each step, each time with more force and anger. The creature's passivity enraged her. All that work, all those moves, the rituals and the machinations would not be stopped by a mere stubborn and mute creature. Behind her, Boocrat was desperately trying to imagine what the consequences of a fight inside a Circle could be. Dragonis looked indecisive, and Trevor was horrified at the thought that she was threatening to kill the Unicorn.

_It's a bluff. She can't really be thinking of doing such a thing. She's bluffing._

When she stepped on the stone, the lights and the humming returned. She felt the magical energy flow through her, and it fueled her anger into passion. The Circle was talking to her! She was feeling its power and it was a breathtaking experience. She moved right in front of the Unicorn, and one last time she ordered it to go away, on pain of death. When he didn't budge, she pulled her arm back and struck forward and upward in one jerking motion, her face deformed in a rictus of rage. The deadly weapon hit just below the breast. There was a great flash of light and a terrible tearing sound.

Laurell felt the tip pierce his heart. There was no pain but he knew that the wound was fatal. His legs gave way under him and thick silvery blood gushed out, flowing along the dagger and soaking Electra's hand before dripping on the stone surface. She didn't feel it. Her mind was overwhelmed by a terrible joy and an incredible sensation of power. She screamed with joy and pleasure beyond anything she had ever felt. Blinding light jetted from the ground where the blood fell. From their hiding place, Alicia and Richard watched in horror. Their thoughts flew toward the Unicorn and they sensed the telepathic response.

_Do not be sad. It is my fate, and now you will have to accomplish yours. Remember what I showed you. _

Laurell fell down, and more blood splattered over Electra. As the Unicorn died, the rays of light from the Circle grew to an unbearable intensity, and the hum rose in pitch and power. Electra was still screaming, but now they couldn't see her. They all had to close their eyes, and even then, silver and gold flames burned through their eyelids. They were getting ready to run, hands pressed against their ears in protection against the painful sound, head bent away from the hellish fire which the Circle had become. It lasted only a second, and then it was over. There was nothing but darkness and the dying echoes of Electra's screams, and then there was only silence.

Trevor and Dragonis were stunned, but Boocrat was truly terrified. Not for the first time, he lamented the recklessness of his former pupil. There was no telling what might have happened. After a full minute, they heard a weak moan. Trevor roused himself and worked up enough courage to cast a _Lumos_ spell. Electra was lying on the floor next to the circle, and just beginning to move. He knew that he should be running to help her, but he was still under the shock of what she had done. It was sacrilegious to kill a Unicorn, the stuff of the darkest magic. She had told him of the Brotherhood, and of its ambition to re-orient the wizard world in the old traditional ways. He adhered fully to such an agenda, and not only for the advantages that it would bring him.

_She needed to do it. There was no other way. It's a terrible thing, but it was necessary. Wasn't it?_

The rationalization helped a little, but he was still troubled. Beside the act itself, there was also her reaction. Her scream had been orgasmic, similar and yet so much more intense to her pants of pleasure a few hours ago. He found the implicit association extremely disturbing.

They looked at the Circle. It was empty and there was not the slightest trace of a body, or even blood. The only visible things were the dagger and long ivory object which he didn't recognize at first. Electra sat up and shook her head slowly. She was breathing deeply and coughing in spasms, every lungful a desperate attempt to extract oxygen from the air. Her face was flushed and partly covered by her hair, which was soaked with transpiration, but she was recovering quickly. He finally moved to help her stand up. She clutched to him and turned toward Sylvia. Nervous tremors ran through her right arm. There was something on her face. He couldn't see clearly because of the hair.

"Activate the sentinels!" she spat angrily. "I don't want anybody, or anything else coming here. Do it now! Trevor, go with her." She released him and didn't wait for acknowledgement. She addressed Boocrat. "And you professor, snap out of it. You have work to do."

"Electra, you must understand that these things-"

"It's your role to understand these things," she interrupted. "Mine is to decide how to use them. We need to control this Circle, and to block Dumbledore from using the other. I don't like surprises and this one was too much."

She walked up to the circle once more and picked up her dagger. That was when she noticed the silver spots peppering her hand. She rubbed at the skin, but they wouldn't go away. She felt a flash of panic. Killing the Unicorn hadn't bothered her, but these marks did. She saw the other object and realized that it was the Unicorn's horn.

_Damn animal! Why couldn't he just go away?_

Her first use of the Circle should have been a moment of triumph, and that stupid creature had ruined it. She kicked savagely at the pitiful remain. Propelling it toward the back of the room.

"Is something wrong?" asked Boocrat.

In normal circumstances, she would have told him, but at the moment, she didn't want to speak about what had happened. She didn't feel shame, certainly not, but she was bothered. She would just ignore and hide this.

"Nothing's wrong. I need to clean up that's all."

She remembered that there was a hot spring somewhere. A long bath would be great right now, but she didn't have time. At least she would wash and change her clothes.

- - -

_Forbidden Forest,_

Albus Dumbledore insisted that he go alone into the Forest. He explained that he had done it several times before, and that there was nothing that the Centaurs could possibly do to him. He even knew approximately where their camp was, but he didn't expect to get close without being intercepted. He was right. Bane was waiting for him in the first clearing. Ronan and Graleva, the eldest of the mares, where standing behind him. Other Centaurs were there as well. He saw Firenze among them. Several were holding cocked bows.

For a moment nothing was said. Dumbledore ignored the weapons trained on him. His face was a mask of disapproval and angry determination. It made Firenze squirm in discomfort, but Bane didn't flinch and stared back with basically the same expression.

"Where are my students and the village's children, Bane?" asked Dumbledore in a hard and strong voice. There were no greetings or polite words. It was exceptional for the Headmaster to be so abrupt. Gentle persuasion had always been the norm for him, at least on first contact.

"They will stay with us until we get back what is ours," replied Bane.

"I do not understand. What are you talking about?"

"HOW DARE YOU FEIGN IGNORANCE WITH ME!" screamed Bane. "Is it not enough that you condemn us to a slow and shameful extinction?"

Bane was trembling with anger and outrage, and the Headmaster could see that the other Centaurs, including Firenze, were with him. The response proved that they felt justified in their reaction, and that they were indeed truly worked up about something. It was very interesting. The problem was that he had no idea what it was.

"Bane, I swear on the lives of those children, that I have no knowledge of anything which has been done to your people."

It was Bane's turn to be taken aback. Firenze frowned and approached to whisper in his ear. The Centaur leader listened and confronted the Headmaster.

"Firenze tells me that there is much that humans have forgotten. Does that include the pact which they made with us?"

"Do you mean the cession of the Forest to the Centaurs?" asked Dumbledore. He had only a basic knowledge of it. In his mind, it was rather a tacit agreement.

"The Forest has always been ours. I speak of the Shrine in the old ruins."

A chain of connections fell into place in the old wizard's brain. Nothing that the six had told him mentioned involvements with the Centaurs, but he hadn't had the time to review all their documents. However, it was too much to be a coincidence.

"I know nothing of a Shrine," he said. "But there has been disquieting developments among wizards, and we have received information that an ancient castle may be involved, but we haven't been able to identify it."

He described the model Dobby had found in Alan Boocrat's house, and Firenze said immediately that it matched what they were talking about. Bane threw him an angry look, but the younger Centaur stood his ground.

"This is no time for secrets," he said. "The Pure Ones said the wizards had taken it, so they know where it is. What is there to hide anymore?"

"Firenze is right," added Dumbledore. "I will help you if I can, but you must tell me what has been happening, and what this Shrine is."

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Flitz and Silena arrived at the Forest's edge near the school. Flitz stopped at the tree line, unwilling to come out into what was for him forbidden territory.

"What are you waiting for?" said Silena. "We've got to tell our friends."

"I do not know. I am not supposed to go near this place."

"And we weren't supposed to go into the Forest, but we did, so you can do the same. Come on. I'll defend you."

Flitz turned his head and looked at her. Even sitting on his back, her head was lower than his, but she had her wand out and she looked determined enough. He relented and continued toward the castle. The doors were closed but Silena knocked firmly, using one of the large metal loops.

A small shutter opened and a magical blue eye inspected them. There was an exclamation of surprise and several muffled shouts inside.

"It's me, Silena," she called out. "I'm with a friend and I need to speak with my brother."

There were more shouts, and then a command for them to stand back. They did so and waited. After a moment, the great door opened partially. A forest of wands was aimed in their direction, held by anxious and fearful students. Professor McGonagall was standing in the middle and looking at them with her usual stern expression. Flitz was very worried, but Silena held on to him and told him not to be afraid.

"Miss Malfoy, where have you been?" asked the professor. "And who is this?"

"This is my friend Flitz," replied Silena. "And we need to speak with my brother and his friends, and no one else," she added stubbornly. She didn't know who was in on the secret of the stone circle, and Richard had been very clear on that point.

McGonagall frowned, but the girl would not budge. There didn't seem much harm in letting them in. She told them to wait and went in search of the others. Presently Draco and the others arrived and they all retired to a private room to talk.

"All right," asked Hermione. "Tell us what happened?"

Silena threw a worried look at McGonagall who set her jaws in impatience.

"Miss Malfoy, you have evidently been breaking several school rules by going outside the school after curfew, and Merlin knows what else. We will discuss that later. For now we have an emergency. Several children have been taken hostages and if you have any information which can help us get them back, now is the time to tell us."

Silena and Flitz told their story. They didn't go into the details of what they had seen in the dream. It proved difficult enough to get the idea across that Unicorns were intelligent and could make themselves understood under certain circumstances. They did explain about the loss of access to the Shrine, and the attack on the Centaurs' expedition. Flitz told them of his own initiation, and how important the Shrine was for his kind. Hermione made the same connections than Dumbledore did. She fished out the Omniglasses and both youths confirmed that Boocrat's other castle and the Centaur's Shrine was the same place. There was a collective gasp of horror when they learned that Alicia and Richard had been heading over there.

"What were they thinking going to such a dangerous place?" asked McGonagall.

"Laurell said that they would be safe with him."

Hermione had been thinking. A lot of things made sense to her now. The real target of their enemies must be that place. It was much more logical than Hogwarts. If the Parkers were going to the Shrine, then Snape, Remus and Helen would be there too, and they were probably in danger.

"We've got to go there ourselves," she said. "There is no time to lose." She explained her reasoning to the others. McGonagall sensed that she was losing control.

"Not so fast. We need to tell the Headmaster that-"

"Yes," interrupted Harry. "And Flitz can go with a teacher to do that. The Centaurs will believe him, and that may settle the conflict with them, but we've got to go that other place as soon as possible. How can we get to it?"

"Some Nimbus 2001's taken from the Slytherin Quidditch team," proposed Draco. "But first we have to know where it is." He turned to Flitz. "Can you tell us that?"

"I can lead you to it, on foot."

"How far is it?"

"A night's march," said Flitz. "Five turns of the little mark, and twenty of the long one."

"That's much too long," said Hermione, biting her lips. "Wait a minute. What did you say?"

Flitz repeated his words and took out Richard's watch to show them. After the boy's explanations, he had amused himself by timing several events and actions. When he had returned to the Shrine, he had noted how long the trip had taken.

"That's fantastic," said Hermione. "We can work out a rough distance from this. Can you give us an idea of the direction?" She turned to McGonagall. "Can we get a map of the general area around Hogwarts?"

Flitz could only give references to the position of the stars, but with the time of departure, taken from the watch, and the assistance of some astronomy textbooks, Hermione and Luna were able to determine roughly where the Centaur's Shrine was located.

"All right," said Harry. "Now we have all we need."

"I'll go with you," said Silena.

"Totally out of the question," replied Draco before McGonagall could forbid her. "You stay here where it's safe."

Silena crossed her arms and looked stubborn, but this time there was nothing she could do about that.

"Then I'll go with Flitz!"

McGonagall didn't like it much either, but Flitz asked for Silena's presence as well, and there was a good chance that the Headmaster would like to ask her more questions. The professor would have liked to accompany them, but she knew that it would be important to have at least one person with the full knowledge of the situation stay at the school. Professor Flitwick would go with them.

"All right Miss Malfoy. You and your friend will go, and you are to tell the Headmaster everything."

- - -

_Camelot,_

They were flying on two brooms, Severus and Helen on Harry's Firebolt, and Remus on Draco's Firestreak. The first reading had them go over a large area of the Forest. They touched down in a clearing and took another sighting. From the difference in the size of the arrow symbol, they deduced that the children, or a least Alicia, were about half an hour away at the speed they were making.

When their destination looked to be near, they stopped to make one last check. Helen was tense and didn't speak much. Remus walked over to Severus who was brewing another batch of potion.

"How could they have traveled so far, and by themselves?" he said in a low voice, so that Helen would not hear.

"I doubt that they were alone," replied Severus. "Perhaps a different band of Centaurs took them." He was going to add something about encouraging reckless behavior in children too young to know any better, but one look at Remus' face dissuaded him. The man was evidently torn with guilt. Severus recalled his own youthful adventures of another kind. At their age, instead of exploring places, he had been experimenting in Dark Magic. On his own, he had studied dangerous and forbidden spells, dwelling in secrets that even his family wouldn't have approved of. He shivered at what could have happened.

_Actually it did. Those forays led to my dealings with Voldemort and losing my soul in his evil. The Marauders and these children were only risking their lives._

It suddenly made him feel more sympathetic to the other man.

"You shouldn't blame yourself too badly," he said gently. "Curiosity is part of our nature."

Remus nodded. He was glad that Severus seemed to condone his actions, or lack of, but he wondered about the mother. After all, she wasn't a witch. How could she possibly understand?

"We'll get them back," he said firmly. "Whatever it takes, we'll get them back."

Severus acquiesced. He threw a glance at Helen, who was gazing in the distance, and Remus saw the desperate concern in the man. He had noticed how the two of them looked at each other. The signs were clear enough.

"She loves you," whispered Remus. Severus' head snapped back with a furious scowl. Remus ignored it and continued. "And you feel the same."

"I do not!"

"Severus, I can still understand what I see. Why don't you admit it?"

"This is none of your business," snapped Severus.

"I am your friend," said Remus. The other man shook his head.

"You are," he said curtly, "but it is impossible, and I do not wish to discuss it."

Remus shook his head sadly. He looked at the former Death Eater in the eye.

"Nothing is impossible, Severus," he said softly, gesturing at the man's forearm, where the Dark Mark of the Death Eaters had once been tattooed. "You should know that better than anyone else."

"Over there!" exclaimed Helen suddenly. She gestured to a point on the horizon. "Carrion birds flying over something."

- - -

_Hogwarts,_

Under Bane's disapproving stare, Dumbledore was carefully listening to Graleva's explanation of the Centaur ritual. She didn't describe the Circle in details, although she mentioned on the role of the Pure Ones, which he knew were Unicorns. Because of this, he didn't make an immediate association with the cave room under Hogwarts.

At that point Flitz and Silena burst into the clearing. Firenze abandoned the group of Centaurs and rushed toward his son, while Silena gave her message to the Headmaster. There was some confusion at first, but after a few minutes the situation was clearer. The Centaur's Shrine was a teleporting Power Circle. None of the Centaurs among those present remembered that the one under Hogwarts had ever been used by their people, but they were ready to accept Flitz's word that Laurell had said so. They discussed it a little more and Ronan recalled that actually there was a place in the forest where an old cave had been condemned. Dumbledore immediately proposed that they go there to see if it could be the ancient entrance to the circle room.

"Bane," he said, "I will pledge to help you recover access to your Shrine, and in the meantime it should be possible to use the Hogwarts circle, but I will only do this if you release the children now."

Bane hesitated. He looked at the other Centaurs. Firenze was obviously in favor of agreeing to the Headmaster's proposal. He was not a senior member of the Herd, but with Lyman gone, he was a natural candidate to become Herd Mentor. The Herd leader also considered the other Centaurs and measured their attitude. They had accepted the decision to go against the human children because there was no other way, but it was clear that now that an alternative was being proposed, they were wavering in their resolution. He turned toward Dumbledore.

"You will help us against those wizards?" he asked.

"I will," promised Dumbledore. "Do not forget that they are my enemies as well."

"Very well." Bane sighed. He hoped that he wasn't making a mistake. "We will bring the children to you." He didn't dwell on the fact that the Centaurs would probably find it difficult to approach the village. After what had happened, its inhabitants were probably in a mind to hex first and ask questions later if they saw any Centaur. Hogwarts would be a neutral ground.

"That is satisfactory," said Dumbledore. "And I will speak to the villagers."

"What about Richard and Alicia?" asked Silena. "Do you think that the others will be able to get them back?"

Dumbledore pondered the question. Their situation didn't look that urgent. He had a great deal of confidence in Harry and his friends, and he felt that if they joined with Severus and Remus, then they would probably not need his help immediately.

_And then someone should stay near the school. They have a portkey and they can always Apparate back at the village._

He decided that reassuring the Centaurs, and consolidating the situation here was the best decision he could make. If they didn't receive news in the next few hours, then he would go there himself.

"We will finish this business first," he said finally. "Bane, please have the children brought to the school, and then lead me to that abandoned cave entrance. I will give you access to our Shrine, and then I will look into this other matter."

- - -

_Camelot,_

The birds led them to the ruins. As they approached, they decided that Severus and Helen would stay low while Remus surveyed the area from above. Because of this, and because he had only briefly examined the information recovered by Dobby, Severus didn't identify the place. They went first for the spot where the birds hovered and turned. It looked like a bloody mass and Helen's anguish redoubled. She didn't even want to _imagine_ what it might be, but she had to know. Remus made a quick pass over it and veered toward them.

"It's a Centaur I think," he screamed from the air. "Or a man on a horse."

Severus frowned. _A dead Centaur. Not a good omen._

They converged on the spot. It was a Centaur, and it was not a pretty sight. The corpse had been there for at least a day. Flies were buzzing furiously. The birds had already picked at the eyes and at the flesh, but it was not they who had made the deep cuts they could see in the body. Helen looked away and her eyes fell on a beautiful long bow lying on the ground. She remembered a remark by Ethan about Centaurs being very keen on such weapons.

_So this is the bow of a magical creature._

Fascinated, she went to pick it up, while Severus and Remus examined the body. She tested the pull and she could see that it was a remarkable piece of work. Very strong and perfectly balanced. There was a quiver of arrows which had been thrown farther away, and she turned toward that.

"Ripping wounds," said Remus. "Some kind of animal."

"No," said Severus, indicating the remains of a Golem. "Sentinels." Then the truth hit him like a bucket of ice water. This place was defended against intruders. He stood up and immediately looked around. "Wands out! We are probably in great danger."

Remus immediately assumed a defensive position, and Helen instinctively nocked an arrow to the bow. Severus looked at her with surprise, until he remembered that she knew how to use one.

_Such a primitive weapon is not going to help a lot. Witness the dead Centaur._

"What are sentinels?" she asked.

"Animated magical statues which are used to defend a property," replied Severus. He tried to frame the answer using Muggle concepts but from the look on her face, she seemed to grasp it quite clearly.

"Golems," she murmured.

Suddenly she was back in a college classroom. She wasn't Helen Parker, PhD in biochemistry, but Helena the Amazon warrior, seventh level fighter and the deadliest archer in the Forgotten Realms. It was silly, but somehow she knew that at this very moment, her fantasy role playing universe and her real life had just blurred together, even if it certainly wasn't a game.

"How do they fight? What are their weak points?" she asked, not looking at them, but darting her eyes right and left, not with fear, but with determined courage.

Even Remus was surprised at her attitude. _That's a Muggle woman? _Severus tried to remember what he knew about Sentinels. It wasn't much. Only very rich families had ever used them, and they had gone out of fashion a long time ago.

"Talons, claws and bites. I believe that some can fly, the larger ones can't."

"We should stay together," said Remus. "If there are many of them and if they surround one of us, then it's going to get bad."

"Right," said Helen. "That wall corner over there. It should cover our backs. Can you cast protection spells? Or something to hide us?"

_I don't believe it, _thought Severus,_ She's discussing tactics in magical combat._

Believable or not, going for that wall was good advice. He was getting ready to answer her when something moved on their left. He let out a warning, but Remus had seen it as well. One of the golems was a small flying gargoyle, and the other moved on four legs, like a panther. They were both very fast and coming toward him.

"Two of them," he said. "I'll take the one on the ground. _Reducto!_"

Severus had to move to the side to get a proper shot at the gargoyle. His spell was cast with a few seconds' delay, but aside from a flash of light, neither make any impression on the creatures.

_Damn it! They're protected against magic. I didn't remember that._

The protection made sense since these things were essentially used to defend against enemy wizards. It was also very bad news. Severus was thinking of an adequate counter, when an arrow whizzed past his head, and struck the flying gargoyle squarely in its body. It immediately broke up, leaving Remus to handle the remaining Sentinel.

Like Severus, Remus was not used to fighting with other weapons than offensive spells. He tried to conjure a barrier, but he was not quick enough. The Golem jumped at his right hand and its jaws crushed the wand and several fingers. Remus screamed in pain but reached for one of the creature's rear legs with his left arm. He whirled it around and managed to free his wounded and bloody hand. The broken wand fell on the ground.

The two of them turned violently in a kind of mad dance. Remus was holding the monster by one of its paw. The force of inertia was enough to keep it from biting at him, but it could only be a temporary situation. Helen tried to get a shot, but they were whirling too rapidly for that.

"Try to find something to hit them with," she screamed. "They can only be damaged by physical weapons."

Severus had gotten used to trusting her. He looked around and saw a dead tree trunk rising from the ground. One branch looked sturdy enough to make a proper bludgeon.

"_Diffindo!_"

The cut branch fell on the ground. He ran to get it. Other shapes were coming toward them, both of them hugging the ground. Helen aimed and shot at one, but it jumped very fast to the side and she missed. Remus managed to get close to a large stone and flung the Golem against it as violently as he could, breaking its back. For an instant the pieces lay still, and then the front part resumed moving, using its paws to crawl toward him.

Severus was running back with the branch. The werewolf ignored the damaged Golem as he prepared to handle the fresh ones with his bare hands. _Make that one hand actually. I can't do much with the other. _Helen aimed another arrow, and this time it destroyed its target. The other Sentinel jumped at Remus and they rolled on the ground. The damaged Golem was now edging toward Helen. Severus battered at it until it finally stopped moving, and then he went to Remus' help.

When they had finally killed the last Golem, Remus was unconscious and his body horribly mangled from half a dozen wounds. One leg was broken and badly ripped, and there was a gaping hole in his belly. Helen was sure that he was dead or at least so badly injured as to be untransportable. She looked at Severus in anguish, and then in horror as the wizard took the wounded man's collar and pulled him roughly over the ground, oblivious to the freely flowing blood and gore.

"What are you doing? You're going to kill him!"

"Little chance of that. He's a werewolf. He regenerates. Cover me while I get him over there."

They moved as quickly as they could toward the corner wall that Helen had indicated previously. Severus unceremoniously dumped Remus against the wall. He took out his wand and started to levitate several rocks to secure the position as best as he could. He managed to build a makeshift fort.

Remus moaned and tried to sit up. Helen threw him a quick glance and felt queasy. It seemed incredible that he was still alive, and she winced in sympathy at his wounds. She noted that the bleeding had stopped. He still looked awful, but he could move. A warning cry from Severus pulled her back. Another flying gargoyle was coming at them. She aimed and shot it, but this time it was only partially damaged, its left wing broken. It came at them, crawling on talons.

"Try impediment spells," suggested Remus through clenched teeth. He was trying to straighten his broken leg. Werewolves could regenerate, but they were not immune to pain. "As soon as I can, I'll try to keep them away with that log, and Mrs. Parker can shoot at them."

"I don't have many arrows left," said Helen. "And that last one broke when it struck, and you can call me Helen," she added.

Severus _Accio'ed_ one of the undamaged arrows he could see, and then he placed an unbreakable charm on it.

"Try this one next. I only hope the magic doesn't make them useless against the Golems."

Helen shot at the gargoyle, and the impact shattered it satisfactorily. It looked like the dead Centaur's bow was their best weapon. Severus recovered the missile and charmed the remaining arrows. Terrifying sounds of furtive crawling, and of stone surfaces grating together, could be heard from the inner area of the ruins. Remus could stand up now. He did so, wincing in pain, and he padded his pockets.

"Damn!"

"What is it?"

"I lost the portkey. That beast ripped up my robe."

Severus gave him the improvised mace.

"It looks like we're going to have to fight it out."

"Can you try Disapparating?"

Severus looked at him as if he had lost his mind. There was no way that he was going to leave them alone while he tried getting help. They would survive, or die, together. Remus gave him back a fatalist grin, and he gripped the tree branch tightly, hefting it to get a proper sense of balance.

A desperate battle followed. Golems were coming at them in waves. They also tried producing the same screaming sounds as they had against the Centaurs, but these could be neutralized with _Silencio_ spells. Helen was shooting as fast as she could. The bow had become an extension of her body. Each arrow was mated to its target in her mind, before she would release the string. Her marksmanship was incredible.

Severus was casting spells like a robot. Recovering arrows, using rocks as projectiles against their attackers, shoring up the defenses. He could slow the attackers somewhat with _Impedimenta_ spells. It wasn't much, but every little bit helped. Many Golems would get close enough anyway, and then Remus would batter at them with the branch. His superhuman strength flinging them away, usually with broken talons or paws. They kept coming back like the undead monsters that they were, until his blows finally turned them into broken demon dolls.

Some Golems threw missiles of their own, Shuriken-like blades. Severus could protect against them with shielding charms, but some got through anyway, and those who missed exploded on the stone wall behind them, showering them with sharp debris, adding painful cuts to their other wounds. Broken pieces of Sentinels were everywhere. Time passed and Helen was tiring. Her arm muscles screamed for relief. Even Remus' incredible stamina was giving out, and Severus too was nearing his limits.

Between attacks, they could count on a few minutes' respite, but the Golems always returned. After one last wave which they barely managed to repeal, they knew that it wasn't going to last much longer. Only two arrows remained. Helen tried to relax her arms which were knotted with cramps. She and Severus looked at each other. They were covered in rock dust, matted with sweat and blood. He ached to see her like that, so brave and deserving. He knew what was going to happen.

"I am terribly sorry Helen. I brought you here and I fear that ..." He couldn't bring himself to say it.

She looked back, exhaustion and sadness on her face.

"I'm not sorry that I came with you, and you did it for my children. Both of you. I'm grateful and my only regret is that ..." She too couldn't bring herself to say it, but it wasn't a thought about death.

Remus was panting, hands on his knees as he recuperated. It was obvious to him that they wanted each other, and that they didn't dare say it.

"Severus," he said between breaths. "Stop being a git ... Tell her ... you love her ... and kiss her ... for Merlin's sake."

Severus started to turn angrily, but Helen was staring at him with extraordinary intensity. Remus' words spoke to her heart, and to his own.

_What are you waiting for Severus? We are all going to die here in a few minutes. Tell her how you feel, it won't matter anyway._

Actually it would matter. It would certainly bring back her beautiful happy smile once more on her face, and that was something that he would like to see one more time before the end.

Severus lowered his wand. For the first time in his life, he opened his heart and set aside all his doubts and reservation. He spoke the words that she had so much wanted to hear.

"He is right Helen, I truly do love you. Forgive me for not having said it before."

She gave him the smile he liked so much then, but this time it was brighter, and more tender, than anything he could remember. He forgot about the danger, about the Golems who were probably approaching for their final assault. He took a step toward her and they came into each other's arms and lost themselves to the passion which had been waiting for them for so long.

Remus considered them with a great feeling of peaceful contentment. Something at least, had gone right today. He gave a yearning thought to his own love. He would not see his dear Tonks again, but she had given him some of the best moments of his life. He turned around, leaving Severus and Helen kissing each other with abandon. He was determined to buy them as much time as possible.

A new group of Golems was coming. He couldn't see them yet, but he could hear the sounds of their progress. He didn't know how many of the damn things there were. The ground before him was littered with their remains. He gripped the half broken tree branch and placed his feet firmly on the ground. _Come on you bastards!_

"_Bulla Protega Maxima!_"

He didn't have time to turn his head toward the new voice, when his vision was suddenly obscured by a silvery wall. It enclosed the three of them and a good part of the wall.

"What is this?" said Severus. He was still holding Helen. His wand at the ready for dealing with this new emergency.

"I think it was Harry's voice. I'm not-"

_BAOUM!_

A stupendous explosion was heard, followed by the whizzing sound of rock splinters ricocheting against stone and earth. Several of them hit the bubble inclosing them, making it ring like at bell. They ducked involuntarily, but nothing penetrated the barrier. A few seconds of calm followed, and then there was another explosion, this time some distance away. Remus, Severus and Helen looked at each other in wonder. It looked like help had finally arrived, and in the nick of time. The blasting sound was repeated twice more and then the bubble disappeared.

Clouds of dust obscured their vision. The ground before them was littered with broken rocks. The vegetation was shredded. It was like the aftermath of a bombing run. Coughing sounds were heard in the distance, and they joined in as the chocking dust got to their throats.

_"Ventus Saevit!_"

A wind rose and began to disperse the clouds. Two human figures holding sticks in their hands could vaguely be discerned some ten meters away. The characteristic sound of a flying broom passed over them, and turned toward them as the first two figures resolved as Draco and Ginny.

"Are you all right?" asked Harry, landing next to them. Hermione was seated behind him. She gasped in horror at the torn robes and the bleeding wounds. Ron arrived in turn with Luna behind him.

Remus looked at his young friend in wonder. Then he started grinning and the grin turned into a laugh. A great barking laugh of relief and joy at being alive and at having cheated death once more. Of having fought bravely to the brink of defeat, with comrades at his side, and to have won against the odds. James would have been proud, Sirius too, and they would have laughed with him

Harry looked worried at first, and then he got it and joined in, grinning and laughing as he walked toward his guardian and embraced him, unmindful of the blood and the dirt. They were laughing because that was what true warriors did after the battle.

The others grouped around them. Severus was still holding Helen, his arm around her waist. He looked at Harry with still unbelieving eyes. Harry released Remus and walked toward the couple. His eyes caught Helen, and saw the happiness which was too strong to be simply the relief of having been rescued. He looked at Severus and the old devil-may-dare smile brightened his face.

Severus looked back unsure how to react. Slowly, he realized that, if there was one person who could understand what he had just done, then it was that boy.

_Albus too. He knew what he was doing. Great Merlin!_

He understood now, some of what the Headmaster had tried to tell him. Not everything. It wasn't even a question of understanding really, but he knew that there was a world to explore. A world he had denied until now.

They stayed that way for a moment, and then they sobered. The mission wasn't finished yet. Alicia and Richard were in there somewhere, as was the target of their enemies. It was time to find the Centaur's Shrine.


	33. Chapter 32 Electra

_The final face off. And the last chapter (there'll be an epilogue)._

* * *

**_Chapter 32 – Electra_**

_Camelot,_

When Trevor and Dragonis returned to the Circle room, after having activated all of the castle's defenses, Electra was not there anymore. Professor Boocrat was busy working on some complex incantation. Trevor didn't dared disturb the man. He could sense that this was delicate work. Finally he was told that Electra was probably in the former citadel's baths. Dragonis gave him a few directions and he went in search of her.

The castle was still in ruins, but here and there, some parts showed the smooth patina of fresh construction. Trevor didn't know it, but Camelot was slowly restoring itself, as it magically adapted to the return of its former owners. He found her after a few minutes. In the end, by following the sound of running water. She was inside a large tiled room, the air thick with moisture from the bubbling springs. It was hot here. The water was evidently warmed by some underground volcanic activity, or a permanent heating charm. She had her back turned to him, and she was covered in a large white sheet.

"Who is it?" she asked sharply.

"It's me, Trevor." He sensed the nervousness in her voice. "Are you all right?"

She didn't answer immediately. Evidently there was a problem, but he couldn't see what it was. Electra pondered what to do.

_He'll know sooner or later. It might as well be now._

She waited a few seconds and then whirled around, throwing the makeshift towel away. She stood naked before him, a form of unearthly beauty. He gasped, but not because of her nakedness, or the lovely shape of her body.

_Great Demons!_

Electra's skin did not display the soft cream tones he remembered; or rather it didn't display only those. Streaks of silver marked her face, right hand and several parts of her body. She looked ready to kill someone, showing an expression of extraordinary anger and hatred. He didn't dare say anything. It wasn't particularly ugly or repulsive. It was just ... strange. And then, when one considered the obvious cause, it became the mark of Cain.

She looked at his face and saw the unease written there, even though he tried to mask it.

"So, what do you say?" she asked defiantly.

He swallowed. The woman had first fascinated then seduced him. He was still very much in awe of her, but now he was also afraid, if not terrified. What she had done placed her beyond the realm of mere humans. He couldn't help but wonder if she had mortgaged her soul. It was not as bad as the stories of Liches drinking Unicorn blood in search of desperate immortality, but it was close.

_Oh, Electra, why did you do this?_

"You had to do it," he finally ventured.

She reflected that it was probably the most prudent thing he could say.

"Yes I did." Her voice was less strained.

He didn't dare add that it didn't matter, because of course it did. Once she had held sway over many men by the raw power of her beauty and seduction. That looked severely compromised.

"Can't you ... hide it beneath a charm or something?"

"I tried. It lasts about five minutes."

He shivered, and not even she could fully hide the terror in her voice. The silver marks weren't mere stains. They worked their own enchantments. It was as if they drained the magic of the masking charm. She would discuss this with the Scholar later. He might be able to arrange something. A moment of silence followed, and then she asked the really loaded question.

"Will you still find me desirable?"

"Yes," he replied immediately.

He knew that there was only one possible answer he could give. One did not abandon a woman like Electra, not without paying a very high price. He hoped that he would still be able to make love to her. In truth, it wasn't the _look_, it was what he was now imagining about her. She reached out to touch his mind, and felt his rigid control. She could pry. Force his defenses and determine what he was really thinking, but at this moment there were some things which she didn't want to explore.

"Show me," she whispered.

He stepped toward her, his hand extended to caress her hair, and ready to bend her head for a kiss. Automatic moves, which he could make without thinking. Part of this would be easy to fake if necessary, and part would depend on how his body would react. He would do his best, and if she didn't make it too hard, it would be enough.

She didn't push for more. At this point, what she really wanted was reassurance, not indubitable proof. The offer of a kiss was all that she got anyway, because the wards were suddenly screaming in her mind.

"Intruders!" she exclaimed.

She turned around and conjured up a long sleeved robe to dress herself. He followed after a moment. He was almost grateful for whoever was daring enough to come here, even if it was only delaying the inevitable.

- - -

_Forbidden Forest,_

The Centaurs led him to a place at the base of the hill upon which the school was built. Dumbledore estimated that they were at about the same level as the circle room. Everything seemed to fit well together. The undergrowth was thick in that area. A good indication that visitors, humans, Centaurs and otherwise, were scarce.

They plowed on and after several minutes of efforts, a vague circular opening could be seen against the rock face. A stone archway of sorts, almost completely hidden by centuries of unsupervised vegetation. They moved closer. He cleared the plants with a spell, but the cavity was blocked up by boulders and earth. It had been a tunnel once certainly, but it would take a lot of work to make it usable again.

_A lot of work or a lot of magic._

Dumbledore thought that the best way would be to enlist the help of some Goblins. These creatures were supremely adept at such tasks, but of course, it was out of the question. He would make do with some of the school staff, the rest of the Centaur Herd, and maybe a few older students. Such cooperation could only contribute to better understanding and relations.

He explained this to Bane, and then he had another insight. Restoring the passage would take time, and it might be prudent to anticipate further actions from their enemies. The Ministry could not be trusted anymore, but some of his friends could. He excused himself, promising to be back shortly. He had a floo call to make.

- - -

_Camelot,_

The walked in a triangle formation. Harry and Draco at the point, Remus and Helen in the middle. The ruins covered a large area, but Hermione had drawn a rough map from the vision Dobby had brought back. Flitz's indications on the location of the Shrine room were enough to orient them. They moved in silence. There were absolutely no signs of life. Helen wanted to call out to her children, but they had agreed that it would be best if they stayed discrete.

"After all the noise we made, they must know we're there," said Ron.

"Yes, but they may rely too much on such defenses," said Severus. "And if the children and that Unicorn are hidden somewhere, we shouldn't give their presence away."

Maybe he was right. Maybe the defenses were automatic. With luck their enemies might not have arrived yet. In that case, their best bet was to find the Circle and secure the position until they could get enough Aurors to take over.

They entered the last courtyard before the Shrine building. Like the rest, it looked completely deserted. The dark opening was visible, dark and vaguely menacing. Wands at the ready, they advanced toward it when suddenly, a dazzling ball of green fire jetted toward them. Not even Harry's lighting reflexes could react in time, and it wouldn't have made a difference in any case.

"_Prot-_"

The world turned green, and then dark.

From inside the Shrine room, Electra relaxed her hold on the Circle. She was learning to control it, and it was living up to its promise. It made the most trivial spell insanely potent. These fools didn't have a chance, especially since they hadn't taken any safety measures. What was remarkable however, was for them to have passed through the Sentinel defenses.

"Trevor, bring them inside, and take the precautions we discussed." She thought for a moment. "Sylvia, contact Shrummer and have him come here with as many other members of the Council as possible. There are only four of us and I don't like it."

It would have been simpler to use some of the lesser associates of the Brotherhood, but the location of the Shrine could not be disclosed yet. It didn't really matter. None could stand against the power of the Circle, she was just being paranoid.

When it was just her and the Scholar, she explained what had happened to her. As she talked, he saw that the silver marks were becoming faintly visible once more. He canceled what was left of the charm and examined them. When she finished, he said nothing and probed his vast memory for a possible remedy.

"There are precedents," he said finally. "Not exactly of this situation, but similar." He indicated that she should follow him. "I can brew something which should be a little more permanent that a masking charm." He looked at her severely. "And then we will get back to our work."

She stayed silent, and he didn't say anything about heeding his warnings. He knew her better than that, and as a teacher he considered that she had been taught a lesson. He only hoped that it would not have more serious consequences.

- - -

_Ministry of magic,_

Shrummer had been very late in coming to work that morning. The previous day's work had exhausted him, and a full night of rest was barely sufficient for recuperation. He frowned when he saw the Aurors and Percival Weasley standing at the entrance of his office.

"Good morning Minister," said Percy with a very serious face.

"Weasley, what's going on?"

"Dreadfully sorry sir," replied the young man. "There's been a, er ..." He squirmed in apology. "Well, a sort of emergency, sir"

"What emergency?" snapped Shrummer, frowning in annoyance.

Percy handed him a sheet of paper marked with the seal of the Wizengamot. It was all he could do to keep himself from grinning. He didn't know what was happening, but he was sure it heralded some good news. Professor Dumbledore was certainly taking an awfully big risk. Shrummer read the short text quickly, his eyes growing wide with stupefaction.

"HOW DARED HE!" he roared.

"You're quite right sir," agreed Percy, nodding approvingly. "Not fair play at all. A disgustingly low blow actually. However I'm afraid that the regulations are quite precise in such a situation."

Shrummer looked up in alarm. Percy was now showing his famous stubborn face.

"You don't mean ..."

"I'm very sorry sir," said Shacklebolt, stepping in. "I'm sure that this will be cleared up in no time, but in the meanwhile I'm afraid you'll have to stay here with us."

- - -

_Camelot,_

The eight of them were immobilized in the Shrine room. Their hands and feet were tightly bound by magically conjured ropes, and they were all separated by sufficient intervals so that they couldn't possible help each other. Electra had been very clear about that. Their wands, and everything else in their possession, had been taken away. As they slowly came back to their sense, Draco recognized the wizard guarding them, his own wand pointed in their general direction. Sylvia Dragonis was a little further away, keeping an eye on the door and the Circle.

"Trevor," he said simply. His expression was set in a hard mask of controlled resentment.

"In person. I must say that I am quite surprised to see you here Draco. I guess you decided to stand with the Muggle lovers after all."

Ginny emerged in her turn with a whimper. She placed the familiar voice before she could see him clearly. When she looked at him, her face was far from composed. It showed all the disgust and hate that the Slytherin inspired her.

"You scum!" she spat. "You tricked us. I'll make you pay for that."

"Good day to you too, Ginny. Don't you think that you're a little presumptuous?" He had liked the girl once, but compared to Electra, she was nothing but a petulant child. He didn't pursue the thought with what had happened this morning.

Ginny glanced at Draco and saw the determination there. The situation was bad, but they were alive. There was still hope. Luna woke up in turn.

"Why?" asked Draco. "Why are you doing this?"

Actually Trevor didn't have the full answer to that. He didn't know what this place was, and he was only following orders. He tried to hide it, but somehow the pale haired girl sensed it.

"You don't really understand what the stakes are," she said. "Listen to me. Nothing irreparable has been done yet. If you help us now, then we will vouch for you."

The others turned toward her with surprised expressions. Ginny and Ron in particular looked outraged that she would propose such a thing, but Luna stood her ground unabashed. She could read enough from his mind to know that Trevor was a weak point on which they could play. Severus nodded, and after a moment so did Draco.

Once the first moment of surprise was passed, Trevor chucked and shook his head. Such naivety was incredible.

"And to think I called Ginny presumptuous. We hold the Ministry of Magic, the Wizengamot follows our lead, and I stand here before you." He gestured at the ropes binding them. "You'll have to do better than that if you want me to betray my friends."

"It shouldn't be too hard," spat Ginny. "Look what you did with us."

Trevor sighed. She was referring to his little deception with the note.

"I am sorry about your father, Ginny. I didn't mean it to happen that way. And you could have been part of it if you had wanted-"

He stopped as he realized that she was getting ready to spit in his face. He raised his wand menacingly and she refrained, glaring at him instead.

After that no one spoke. They waited in uneasy silence while Trevor and Dragonis stood guard over them. After a moment, Boocrat and Electra came back. She radiated even more personality than before. The marks were gone. Her face was beautiful once more, and only the hardness of her expression reduced the charisma.

"We've checked the area, and there is no one else in the vicinity," she said. "I wonder where Shrummer and the others are though." She looked at them and recognized Helen. "What's a Muggle doing here?"

"She came with me," said Severus before Helen could say anything about her children.

They must be hidden somewhere. If they could stay that way, then they might be able to get away. Severus was not optimistic about their own chances. The Headmaster would certainly go looking for them, but in all probability, he would be too late. He couldn't help the selfish thought that this should happen just as he had finally accepted Helen's love. He looked at her with undisguised yearning. The emotion was quite real, but he was also displaying it for a purpose, a desperate ploy to divert their captor's attentions.

Electra saw the gesture and he sneer came over her face._ Muggles and Mudbloods! _Boocrat said nothing. He looked at them like a scientist might consider the content of a Petri dish, evaluating what he could learn from it.

"Who are you?" asked Harry. "And what are you doing here?"

She turned toward him.

"So I finally get to meet the famed Harry Potter," she said in a falsely admiring voice, walking slowly toward him. "The boy wonder so brilliantly used by that cowardly old wizard."

"How dare you speak that way of professor Dumbledore!" exclaimed Harry.

Electra laughed at him, delighted at the success of her baiting. All eyes were on her. Draco and Severus were searching for clues and weaknesses. Hermione was thinking furiously and trying to get her right hand free. Luna winced at the callous emotions she was receiving. Not far from them, inside a crumbling hole in one of the walls, Richard and Alicia wondered what they could do. They were horrified to see their mother tied up and threatened, and they wondered at what power could have succeeded in besting both their six friends and the two professors.

"Dare? Of course I dare!" said Electra. "The man owes me a blood debt, and I intent to collect in full. I would have already if you hadn't interfered."

"Blood debt? Interfered?" Harry was puzzled. He narrowed his eyes. "Who are you?"

She looked at him and laughed again. She was secure in the knowledge that she, and the Brotherhood, were now in control of the Circle. Its power was still coursing through her veins, making her feel like a god.

"My name is Electra, but I doubt that it means anything to you. My family name might however. It is _Grindelwald_." She spoke the last word with force and a flash of green light burst from the circle. The echoes of the Dark Wizard's name sounded across the room. Horror showed on their faces. She threw her head back and broke into a triumphant laugh.

Trevor was thunderstruck. He had been ready to learn that she came from a powerful family. Certainly she carried the trademarks of the magical aristocracy, but Grindelwald, now that was something else. It was also very disquieting. He was much too young to have lived it, but he remembered chilling stories about the short reign of Grindelwald.

_That explains her hatred for the Headmaster._

"So all this is for a mere vengeance?" asked Hermione in a disgusted voice.

Electra whirled toward her. Her face white with fury and her left hand reaching for the dagger at her belt. Hermione tensed and the ropes tightened painfully around her. Electra held the weapon menacingly.

"Be silent Mudblood!" she hissed. "I do not share the late Riddle's taste for the Cruciatus. I prefer the old ways. The knives and the blood. Talk to me that way one again and I'll cut off your nose."

Hermione saw the gleaming metal blade and turned white. The others were aghast. The venom of the woman's voice was like acid.

"I see that you understand. Good." She surveyed them. "Now tell me what you are doing here. You." She pointed toward Ron.

"We- we came to help our friends," he stammered. He gestured toward the adults. And Electra followed his glance.

"And what were your _friends_ looking for?"

Remus took his cue and decided to answer for him. Like Severus he wanted to conceal the possible presence of the children.

"This Shrine is vital for the Centaurs," he started, "and you- _Ow!_"

Electra had taken two quick steps and slashed him across the face with the dagger. The force of the blow splattered blood away and some of it fell on Helen's dress. She screamed in terror. Trevor winced. There was an unchecked ruthlessness in her which was threatening to make him physically sick. He wondered if it was her true nature, or if the morning's events had unbalanced her.

"Shut up, you," said Electra. "And remember that _I_ decide who speaks here."

Remus was deeply cut, from his upper lip to his hair line, but the blood had already stopped flowing, and the edges of the wound were closing visibly. She considered him coldly.

"Werewolf," she murmured. She shook her head in a gesture of disgust. "What a pitiful band you make."

Trevor reflected that pitiful was perhaps not the proper term. He and Dragonis had configured more than fifty Sentinels to defend the castle. Not a single one remained. It was very impressive.

"They evidently came because of the Centaurs," said Boocrat. "I suppose that the creatures asked the school for help, and that the Headmaster obliged."

In their hiding place, Richard and Alicia were paralyzed by fear. The old scholar took over the questioning. The tension abated somewhat, and Richard's brain resumed working. The situation was hopeless. They had to get word to Hogwarts immediately. Professor Dumbledore was the only one who could possibly help them. He whispered to Alicia and she agreed.

"I'm going to make a run for the circle and use the teleport," she said. He looked at him with terrified eyes. She insisted. "I've got the silent boots."

He swallowed and nodded.

"All right. I'll- I'll give you my hat for protection and ... and I'll make a diversion."

His face was grim. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. They stayed silent for a few seconds, and then he took off the hat and gave it to her quickly, before he could change his mind. He was shaking with fear. She took it and something caught in her voice.

"Don't get hurt, little brother," she said with a chocking voice. "Don't try to fight her." She forced a smile. "Remember that you're a Slytherin. No heroics." He tried a grin which was more of a grimace.

"Yeah, well don't worry. And tell Silena... well just tell her she's my best friend." _And I may never see her again._

Alicia nodded gravely. They hugged fiercely, knowing that this time it wasn't just a game or some kid's adventure. It was the real thing. Alicia waited for an opportunity when no one would be looking in their direction. The four Brotherhood members were moving in to press Hermione with questions, Alicia moved carefully out of the hiding hole. She walked slowly and with precautions along the wall, using the Shadow spell to stay undetected. It would get her to about six meters from the circle. After that she would be in the clear. She had her wand in her right hand, the hat in her left, and her eyes were fixed on the pillar which Laurell had indicated to be the one linked to Hogwarts.

She was almost there when the oldest wizard stood up and said that it was time to continue the rituals. She froze, and her heart stopped beating. She would be right across his line of sight if she made her move now. She stayed immobile for several seconds, and then she heard the sound of a shoe scraping against stone coming from the back of the room. She knew that Richard was going to try for his diversion.

Alan Boocrat heard the disturbance behind him and turned around. There was something moving in the darkness.

Electra and Trevor turned as well. Trevor called out a _Lumos maxima _spell which illuminated the back of the room. Richard was caught in the light like a deer at night on the road. He immediately dropped his wand and raised his hands. Helen gasped in anguish as she saw her son.

Alicia seized her chance and sprinted toward the Circle, keeping the bowler hat between her and the group of wizards. Sylvia Dragonis caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. She took out her wand and screamed a warning.

Hermione made a desperate effort to try and free her right hand. She was almost able to do it, and Harry threw her a pointed look, indicating his own tied hands. They had both experimented with wandless magic, but he had gone for a more ambitious attempt than her. He wanted something which would enable him to launch powerful hexes without burning off his fingers. The practice runs had never been very successful, but today he would certainly have enough motivation.

With a final effort, Hermione got her index finger out of the mess of vines. She aimed at Harry's hands and murmured "_Finite Incantanum!_"

"_Stupefy!"_ screamed Sylvia, aiming at the running girl. The spell hit the hat's shield and rebounded with a resounding ricochet sound. Electra and Boocrat turned toward the sound. Richard dived for the ground, not far from his wand.

Harry's hands came free as the ropes disappeared. He had been wondering whether to attack their enemies, or try and free his friends. He decided that the most urgent thing would be to neutralize Electra. She was the most dangerous adversary. He opened all his fingers and extended both arms at her back.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

Electra was thrown forward as if a truck had hit her from behind. Her wand flew through the air. He got ready to catch it when he saw Trevor turn toward him.

Alicia was just stepping on the raised stone surface. Her wand extended at the pillar.

"_Lumos!_"

The walls of the Shrine disappeared, and then she was in the cave room of Hogwarts circle, minus wand and clothes. There was a huge hole in one side of the cave. She heard the Headmaster's voice, giving direction to teams of diggers.

"Professor Dumbledore!" she called.

- - -

Trevor had been caught completely by surprise by Harry's spell. He didn't understand how the boy had freed himself, and how he could have hexed Electra without a wand, but that didn't stop him from taking aim. Harry's left hand turned toward him, while the left was still reaching for Electra's falling wand. Richard clutched his own wand and aimed at the man.

"_Protego!_" said Harry.

"_Stupefy!_" said Trevor.

"_Stupefacio!_" exclaimed Richard.

Trevor's spell was deflected by Harry's shield, seconds before Richard's hit him squarely. There was not enough force for a full effect, but it was enough to disorient the Slytherin and give them a few seconds' respite. Hermione managed to vanish some of Remus' rope with another spell and the Werewolf's strength did the rest. He heaved with a tremendous effort and jumped at Dragonis and Boocrat who still hadn't reacted. He viciously kicked Dragonis away and pinioned Boocrat, falling down with him on the ground.

Harry finally caught Electra's wand and finished Trevor with a stunning spell. He freed his friends and was getting ready to recover their wands when a yell of warning made him turn. Electra had already recovered, and she was rushing at him with the dagger in her hand. She stabbed at his right hand. Burning pain racked his arm, and he dropped the wand. He tried to kick it away, but she grabbed it before he could. He barely managed to cast another protection charm when her hex blasted him across the room. The shield saved his life but he was knocked unconscious when his head collided against the wall.

"ELECTRA!"

The terribly loud voice of Dumbledore was booming from the Circle. He had apparently used the pillars from the school to return here, but somehow he had kept his clothes and wand. His right arm was extended toward her. Electra's hand closed round her wand and she turned toward him in one fluid movement.

"DUMBLEDORE!"

She called upon the power of the Circle and suddenly she was bathed in deep green light. A ball of green flame jetted from her wand, but the Headmaster was ready. A disk of fiery gold materialized and blocked the attack.

Richard made a quick decision and threw his wand across the room in Severus' direction. The man jumped to catch it, rolling away from a curse thrown by Dragonis.

_Fifty points to Slytherin,_ thought Severus. Dragonis was still trying to aim at him. He grabbed the wand and aimed.

"_Sectumsempra!_"

He did not especially want to harm her, but it was the fastest spell he could use. She screamed and fell back, blood all over her face and arm.

Remus was struggling with the Scholar. Electra aimed her wand at him. He suddenly twisted to turn the old wizard between them, before they were both hit by the tremendous blast of her hex. Boocrat's body took the brunt of it, but Remus didn't escape completely. He hit the wall hard, fell down and lay still. The Scholar's body was pulped into a gory mass.

Electra cursed horribly and turned immediately toward Severus and the others. She used the same stunning blast which had knocked them out before, but this time it was intercepted by a golden fireball from Dumbledore. As it was, the effect was only to shove them brutally aside, not too far from where Harry was lying.

Richard fell back into the dark recess of the room. Without a wand, there was not much he could do.

Dumbledore conjured a golden cloud which enclosed Severus, Helen and the students. It clung to them like a shield. Electra did the same to Trevor and revived him. For few seconds they threw hexes at each other which rebounded from the shields. It was a stalemate, but suddenly Electra started to use the Killing Curse, aiming it first at Severus who barely evaded it. Dumbledore conjured a wall behind which his friends could hide, and then Electra concentrated on him. Green and gold light battled once more. The curse couldn't be blocked, but conjured obstacles could neutralize it, as long as he could keep up.

Richard felt something against his shoe, and there was the sound of a small solid object rolling away. He bent down and fumbled in the darkness. His hand touched it. It was long and felt like a twisted cylinder.

_Laurell's horn!_

He recalled the woman kicking away something after killing the Unicorn. He pulled his hand away and looked at the object with a mix of fascination and horror. This was all that was left of Laurell, a real, living and breathing creature that he had touched, and who had spoken to him. The fascination won over and he picked it up. The thing was warm to the touch. A Unicorn horn was a rare relic. He had heard that Centaurs occasionally bartered Unicorn hairs as potion or wand ingredients, but they always kept the horns. He remembered the previous night's dream and wondered if he could use it as a wand himself. The fight was still raging. Every little bit could help.

_Aim it at her._

The crystal clear thought in his mind almost make him scream in terror. He dropped the horn and took two steps back, and then he picked it up again. He waited for something, but this time there was nothing. Maybe he had imagined it.

_Maybe Laurell is like a ghost now. A Unicorn ghost._

A yell of triumph from Electra told him that there was no time to waste. There was only one way to test if he had been dreaming or not. He took the horn by its wider end and turned toward the center of the room. Electra was sending bolts of green fire with incredible speed, and professor Dumbledore was blocking them as best as he could, but he was clearly on the defensive. Richard aimed the horn point at her back.

Nothing happened. _Maybe I need to say an incantation, or think of something?_ He tried to concentrate on the makeshift wand, holding it in both hands. Remembering the dream, he imagined a fog of luminous particles converging along the length of the horn. Concentrating power and sending it toward a goal.

A great silver beam of light jetted from the tip and struck Electra in the back. He could feel the horn humming through his hands. Something like static electricity was crackling around him. Another single thought came into his mind.

_Continue._

Electra screamed as she felt the pain and realized that something abnormal was happening. She had been winning. It was all that the hated old man could do to stop her from destroying his friends before she would blast him out of this world, and now her power was waning, and she could barely move. She felt encased in burning glue. It was all she could do to defend herself against the Headmaster's. She turned her head around with difficulty and barely saw the boy sending a stream of silver energy toward her.

"Trevor!" she screamed. "Take him out."

Trevor adjusted his position to get a look at what was happening. He hesitated. _She can't wish for me to attack a child!_ And before he could even have time to aim his wand, Helen had jumped from behind Dumbledore's conjured wall to position herself between them, and behind Electra so that the woman could not strike at her. She was still covered in the simmering aura of the Headmaster's shield. He aimed at her.

"_Expelliarmus!_"

The hex struck her cleanly, but it rebounded harmlessly against the shield. She only had to take a step back, as if he had struck her with a pillow.

"If you want to get at him, then you'll have to kill me!" she said. Electra tried to turn around but she couldn't move, and then she had to defend herself against Dumbledore's renewed attacks.

"Get out of the way!" said Trevor. "I'll only disarm him. Give up and we won't hurt you."

"Like hell, we won't!" screamed Electra. "Trevor. As you care for me, just do what I say!"

Draco and the others were moving as well. He tried to conjure something to block them, but a blast from the Headmaster pulverized his barrier.

"You are going to have to use the Killing Curse," said Severus calmly.

He couldn't do it. He knew that Electra could, and would. She was screaming at him to kill them.

"Trevor!" There was real panic in her voice. She was in obvious pain, and losing control. The way things were now going. She was not going to survive this, and he did love her, or he had once.

He raised his wand. They were all between him and the boy now. He knew that he would have to kill them all, one after the other, and it would probably have to be the same with the boy. The Headmaster would transfer the same protection to him.

"Can we make a deal?" he asked desperately. "We can pledge a truce, and all of us would leave this place. No one dies."

"NO TRUCE!" screamed Electra. The others didn't even answer.

_I can't do it._

He was doomed. He knew it. It was a choice between surrendering right away or losing his soul. Trevor wasn't an assassin. He was certainly not a starry eyed idealist, but he had believed in some things. He was strong and ambitious, and had been ready to bend rules, and manipulate people in order to further his chosen goal, and that of his allies. He still thought that he could have killed a man in the right circumstances. Maybe, just maybe, even someone like Severus, if Electra had asked him at the height of his infatuation for her, when she was still human in his eyes.

But he was totally incapable of killing a bunch of students and a small boy for the monstrous creature that she had become.

"Trevor! I love you. Do it!"

_You don't love me. If you did, then you would accept a truce._

He looked at her, twisted in agony, bathed in silver and green lights. The golden tendrils of Dumbledore's spells battering at her shields from outside. The silvers marks on her skin were actually glowing.

"TREVOR!"

He couldn't do it. He lowered his wand in defeat. It was over. He had played and lost. He didn't know what would happen to him. Perhaps the victors would prove magnanimous, but he didn't really care anymore. His life was even more in ruins than this forsaken place. He opened is fingers and the wand dropped on the floor, the soft sound of its clattering on the floor was as definitive as a prison door clanging shut.

Electra saw him surrender and raged filled her. Where was Shrummer? Was there no one on which she could count then? All was lost, unless she could extract the greatest power from the Circle. Boocrat had warned against doing it so soon, but the old fool was dead, and there was no other choice. She called out to the ancient relic and opened her mind to draw out its full power. There was an immediate response, the green glow around her intensified and she relished in the augmented mastery. She could see the golden tendrils been pushed away, and once more the Headmaster was being put on the defensive, but she didn't see what was happening to herself.

From behind her, Severus and the others watched in alarm at her renewed power, and then in fascination as the silver light from the Unicorn's horn intensified as well. Richard was barely able to hold it, his teeth were clenched and he was shaking like a leaf. Terror showed in his eyes. The beam now seemed actually _drawn_ into Electra's back, and bright marks were shining all over her body. It was as if she was a living incandescent lamp, with the light escaping from tears in her skin.

She could move her arms a little, and she saw it as she tried to aim her wand at Dumbledore, who was by now crouching, encased in a sphere of luminescent and translucent gold. She saw the bright rays jetting from her hand and arm, and then she realized that it was the same with her face.

And the energy was leaving her. She could feel it. It was dissipating out of her faster than she could call it in. The pain was sickening, and she could feel that irreparable things were happening to her body. She could see it on her arm. The marks were now real wounds. The skin was cracking and pulling back, the tears widening as more energy came out.

An image formed in her mind. The Unicorn, standing before her and looking calmly back at her. She screamed with rage and frustration, because she knew that it was too late, and that she had lost. She was not going to avenge her father. The Brotherhood was not going to get hold of the Circle. In a flash of intuition, she understood what had happened. He had somehow cursed her, setting up this trap into which she had fallen.

She was dying. Her body was crisscrossed with streaks of white and silver beams. They grew and merged until nothing could be seen except a blinding glare. It lasted a little more, and then the room was silent once more. Where Electra had been, nothing remained. The only light was from the golden radiance of Dumbledore's spells. That disappeared as well and then there were only the softer glow of torches.

Helen was the first to move, rushing toward Richard. They heard the sound of Laurell's horn falling on the floor, followed by a strangled gasp. Helen took her son into her arms, and the boy forgot all about the required dignity of a Slytherin wizard as he sobbed with abandon against his mother's breast.

Severus rose to join them. The others roused themselves one after the other. It was over, and they had won.

Dumbledore stepped up, recovered everyone's wand and equipment and gently made them go outside. Remus was whole once more. Dragonis and Boocrat were dead. The courtyard was brightly lit by the new spring sun, and leaving the Shrine room was like moving into another world. He closed off the entrance with a complex warding spell, and then took Remus aside and whispered for a moment. The younger wizard nodded. The Headmaster conjured a portkey and gave it to him.

"I have asked him to get Mad-Eye and other loyal aurors here," he said to Harry, in answer to the boy's inquiring look. "We will need to guard this place until it can be returned to the Centaurs."

"What about the Ministry?" asked Hermione. Trevor looked up but said nothing.

"I called for an emergency session of the Wizengamot before I left," said Dumbledore with a satisfied smile. "I invoked the high treason clause in the Charter."

This exceptional provision gave the High Court temporary control of Ministry policy. It also freed the Aurors and other security organizations to act autonomously in order to protect public order.

"So that's why Shrummer and the others couldn't make it," said Trevor.

"Yes. The Minister will have to defend himself in court. I gambled that I would be able to prove his involvement in this conspiracy."

Severus had remained with Helen and Richard. The boy had stopped crying, but he was clearly shocked. He was clinging tightly to his mother. He looked up at the potion professor.

"What happened?" he said in a trembling voice. "Did I ... kill her?"

Severus squatted next to them. His hand reached out to rest on the boy's shoulder. Richard's eyes grew wide at the unheard of gesture. Severus wasn't even embarrassed.

"No Richard," said the man gently. "You didn't kill her. You stopped her from killing us all, and she destroyed herself."

He waited to see how the boy was taking it. Richard thought about it, and then he slowly nodded. Evident relief was visible on his face as he wiped his eyes. It would have been a terrible thing for an eleven year old to be a murderer, even of someone as evil as Electra.

Severus paused and added in a very serious voice.

"You did very today, Richard. You showed the valor of a great wizard. I am very proud of you, and so is everybody."

Richard's face lit up. He sniffed and looked at his mother, who was beaming at him.

"Alicia and Silena did good too," he affirmed.

Helen and Severus smiled.

"They certainly did."

The boy cocked his head and looked at the professor in a calculating way.

"Is this going to mean, er, points for our House?" he asked.

_If I didn't know he was a true Slytherin, I know it now,_ thought Severus.

"We'll talk about it with the Headmaster, but rememberthat Alicia's House will get some too."

"That's okay. It will still be two to one. I hope we get the cup this year."

Severus chuckled, and he exchanged a smile with Helen. The boy would be all right if such things were on his mind. He saw that Dumbledore had been following the scene with amusement. It had taken a long time, but Severus thought that he finally understood what the old wizard found in being in charge of so many children. Some of them might be dour and uninteresting, and others nothing but trouble, but there were jewels among them as well. He looked at the Headmaster and winked. The gesture was clumsy for lack of practice, but Dumbledore took it as the sign that this older child too, would be all right.

The Headmaster was satisfied. Several important issues had been resolved today. Of course there were still a few minor loose ends to fix, and some which were not really minor. He considered the young Ministry official with attention.

Trevor's mind started to work again. It was not over yet. With the others dead, he was the last surviving witness, and it was not clear if veritasum, or pensieve memories, could be used forcibly in such a situation. He noticed that Dumbledore and the six students were looking at him.

Harry and Dumbledore exchanged a glance. The Headmaster appeared to be waiting for something. Harry turned toward the others and they grouped together. Trevor saw them evidently communicate silently together, just like he and Shrummer had suspected Draco and Ginny of doing at the Parkinsons. Something must have shown on his face because Dumbledore chuckled. He turned and shot the man a furious stare.

"What's so funny?"

"I wonder if you really realize what you were up against," said the Headmaster.

Trevor grimaced. He was certainly impressed.

"As it was, I must admit that it was a brilliant plan," continued Dumbledore. "But if I had not made a number of mistakes, it would not have gotten half as far."

Trevor raised an inquiring eyebrow.

"I did not take them seriously enough," explained the old wizard apologetically, nodding toward the six students.

Trevor pondered that. He wondered if Electra had. Something else occurred to him. He didn't want to be framed for more than he'd actually done. He spoke clearly enough so that the others would hear.

"You have to understand that I wasn't part of the entire plan."

"Oh," said Dumbledore politely. "I do?"

Trevor squirmed. They weren't making it easy for him. The best deal would be to offer him a plea bargain. His cooperation in exchange for an amnesty, but instead, the canny old man was asking for a confession. What could he say? Trevor was afraid that the simple truth might paradoxically make him too little involved to be a good enough witness against Shrummer, and just guilty enough to be an accomplice.

"Don't," said Dumbledore.

"What?" He felt caught in the act before he had even begun.

"Do not lie. Do not even try to let us believe something false." The Headmaster was very serious. "Do you see that young witch here?" He gestured toward Luna. "She is an Empath. _I_ couldn't even trick her."

Trevor clenched his fists in frustration. He felt angry at his powerlessness.

"So my only choice is to come clean, and throw myself at your mercy?" he said sarcastically.

"This would actually be a better move than you can imagine," replied Dumbledore calmly. "These six know a lot about justice and forgiveness, and as I said, I will listen to them."

Trevor's shoulders dropped and he sighed. Once more he felt crushed by defeat. Whatever the old wizard might say, he didn't expect any clemency. That Granger girl had been far from sympathetic to him before, and he didn't think that Ginny, or even Draco, would ever forgive him.

_It serves me right._ _They made me an offer when I had the upper hand, and I rejected it._

He looked up to see the Headmaster shaking his head at him.

"You are making the same mistake again," he said. Trevor frowned. The Headmaster continued. "Underestimating what they can do."

Trevor held his gaze for a moment, and then he looked at the group of students. They were very close to each other, actually touching in fact, and they were all watching him attentively. He was finding it difficult to look at Ginny directly. What really bothered him was having tricked her to act against her father. Family traditions were after all one of the principles he valued. He hadn't known that the man would be running for office. Maybe Shrummer did, but they had only discussed Bones. She probably would never believe it.

_What the hell. Let's just get this over with._

He straightened up, recovering a little of his usual assurance, and spoke at length. He explained how he had chosen to follow Lord Shrummer's steps, and help the man's career and his own.

"I never had cause to believe him evil," he said defiantly. "And others have listened to his arguments and found them honorable." He looked pointedly at Draco who didn't react.

Shrummer wanted to be Minister of Magic. That was normal enough for a politician of his caliber. An opportunity had arisen, and they had taken it. Trevor detailed their actions, then he looked away and described the first time he had seen Electra, and what he had done for her. Some things he didn't say, but they were implied clearly enough. He went on to being contacted by her this morning, coming here and finding the Unicorn standing inside the Circle. Speaking about what happened afterward was very difficult, but he did it, up to the discovery of the silver marks on her skin.

He didn't look at anybody when he talked, but they were all watching him, even Richard. The boy still grieved for Laurell, but he found it proper that his murderer would be cursed by her very act.

Trevor stopped at the point when they had recovered after being stunned in the courtyard. He finally turned toward Ginny. It was easier to look at her after having explained everything.

"I said it before, and I'll repeat it Ginny," he said. "I'm sorry about your father. I didn't mean for it to be so personal .The rest was ..." He shrugged. "Politics."

She didn't reply, and after a moment he turned back toward the Headmaster. Now that he had confessed, he felt the anger returning. He would suffer the indignities of imprisonment. The cells, the chains and the detailed interrogations. He would hate it, but he would stick to his story and damn them all.

_I've done all my explaining. Don't expect me to beg._

"Thank you, Trevor," said Dumbledore.

A series of cracking sounds erupted around them. Remus was back, along with Tonks, Mad-Eye and four other Aurors. They had been warned what to expect, but they still gasped in outrage as they took in the torn and dirty clothing, the bloody stains and the other marks of battle.

"Good day, Alastor."

"What the hell happened here Albus?" growled the Auror. "Remus told us you needed help in guarding some kind of relic. Wouldn't say a damn thing more." He looked around. "What is this place anyway?"

"I am afraid that it is a rather long story, but now that you are here, he can tell you some of it. We need to return to the school. In the meanwhile, none must enter that building. I trust on you to be-"

"Vigilant!" exclaimed the Six with one voice.

Mad-Eye threw them a furious look, but he would accept banter from them. From the way they looked, he guessed that their story would be a good one.

"Arrumph! Well, that's my job all right. You can go now. Oh, by the way. There are some visitors waiting for you. They'll be with McGonagall in your office."

He considered Trevor and frowned. He remembered having seen the man with Shrummer on several occasions. The Minister was certainly not a friend of the Headmaster, and in fact he was under high suspicion. He jerked his head toward the disarmed wizard while looking at Dumbledore who nodded briefly.

"I would appreciate it if you would keep an eye on Mister Themis. I will talk with him later."

Trevor kept a stony face and said nothing. At least he wasn't sent to Azkaban right away. Dumbledore performed some magic to restore their appearance somewhat. His choice of robes was a century out of date, but no one minded. He created two portkeys to take them back to Hogwarts, one for himself and the Six, and one for Severus, Helen, and Richard.

Severus activated his portkey and found himself in the entry hall. Several children exclaimed at seeing Richard, and he was cheered as a returning hero. News of their arrival dispersed quickly through the school. The doors to the Great Hall opened suddenly. Alicia and Silena were running at breakneck speed toward him. He ran toward them and they hugged passionately.

"You made it!" said Alicia.

"Yes! Thanks to you, and to you to," he added to Silena who was clinging to him. "Where's Flitz?"

"He stayed with the other Centaurs. But McGonagall said that we'll be able to see him later."

They had so many things to tell each other, but the crowed hall was not the proper place for that. It would wait until they were alone. Alicia went to embrace her mother. Their friends were pressing them with questions. Severus intervened and dispersed the students.

"I am certain most of you have homework to occupy yourself. If not then I will be glad to ..."

The end of the phrase was lost in the deafening sound of running feet. The hall was emptying itself faster than the eye could follow, only Richard, Alicia and Silena where left standing.

"Er, we'd better go too," said Richard. "See you later Mom." Severus caught his eye and frowned slightly. "We'll be discrete, sir," he added.

"You do that," said Severus. The three children went away running. Severus doubted it was toward anything resembling homework, but it didn't really matter. He turned toward Helen.

"Teachers have private accommodations. Despite the Headmaster's talent, I believe some cleaning up in is order right now, and even I can find you better clothes than that."

- - -

Dumbledore and the Six materialized in the Headmaster's outer office. As Mad-Eye had said, several people were waiting for them. Ginny and Ron froze as they saw their father standing next to professor McGonagall.

Arthur Weasley turned toward the new arrivals. His face was serious. McGonagall had been bringing him up to date on the last developments. He stopped listening when he saw his children. Ginny's face was terrified. She held Draco's hand tightly and he could see Harry behind her.

"Dad," she whispered.

He knew most of the story now, and he could guess at what she had gone through. His poor little girl, and all because he had accepted to play a role he wasn't meant for. He took a step forward, and he was so tense, that it was impossible to read what he was feeling from his face. Ginny and Draco watched him come toward them and braced themselves for the worst. Certainly he had every reason to be angry.

Arthur embraced Ginny, calling out her name in a choked voice. Both of them said they were sorry, that they loved each other, and that it should never have happened. Draco released her hand, and Arthur looked at him. They held each other's gaze for a moment. It was difficult for Draco to admit anything. _A Slytherin is never sorry. _He had been imprudent certainly, but he had never acted knowingly against the man. Arthur knew it, intellectually, but it wasn't the same thing. Ginny reached out to take back Draco's hand and pulled him toward her. She looked at her father, silently expressing that it was both of them or nothing. Mistakes had been made, but they were still together. Arthur watched them for a moment, and then he nodded toward Draco, acknowledging that it would be all right.

Ron greeted his father, and then they turned toward the remaining visitor. Amelia Bones had been considering Dumbledore reservedly. The Headmaster went behind his desk and had them sit down. He spoke at length, going over the main points once again so that everyone was aware of what had actually been happening.

"And so, the Centaurs will be able to recover their old Shrine again," he said. "But they can also use the one under the school. One foal has been initiated today. An important gesture of good will."

"What about Shrummer?" ask Bones.

"He will stand trial, with as many of his accomplice that we can find. Certainly we have enough proof to charge him. There will be a new Minister of Magic."

Bones' look was unflinching.

"And?"

"And nothing," he replied tranquilly. "Everyone will be free to participate, although this time I will allow Miss Granger to defend her project personally ... and I will support her champion."

Bones turned toward Hermione who was looking at the Headmaster with radiant eyes. The former candidate scowled. It would still be some time before she could fully forget the past, but in truth there was really nothing more she could ask for.

"Miss Granger," she said. "I believe that the spring vacations are planned for two weeks away, but can I hope to meet with you before that?"

"Certainly," replied Hermione. "I can't wait for us to place our names under that Manifesto of yours."

Bones liked the idea. They had received a great deal of support for _Fraternity of Magic_. It might even be a good tactic to go public before the election.

"I think that can be arranged fairly quickly," she said.


	34. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

_Ministry of Magic,_

Trevor Themis was lying on his bunk. The cell wasn't too uncomfortable, and at least they hadn't chained him to the wall or anything like that. He looked at the steel ring in the wall and wondered if he was getting some kind of preferential treatment.

It had been two full day since the events at Camelot, and he had received no news at all about what was happening outside. He wondered if Shrummer was imprisoned in cell close by, or if they were still fighting it out in the Wizengamot.

_What's taking them so long?_

There was the sound of a lock turning. A thrill of fear chilled him, like every time this happened. He looked up to see the door open, and one of his guards enter.

"Appointment for you," said the man.

Trevor rose and allowed himself to be led out of the cell. They passed several doors and corridors, and then he was asked to enter a normal looking room. He guessed that it was finally going to be interviewed by the authorities. He went inside. Percival Weasley was waiting, seated at a table, a thick folder in front of him. There was no one else.

"Good day, Trevor," said Percy.

"Percival."

He watched the younger wizard carefully. Shrummer had kept him as assistant, although of course he'd never trusted him as a real confident. Percy fitted the profile of the perfect civil servant. Loyal to the job before other personal allegiances, and totally devoid of imagination. Trevor imagined him opening the folder and starting at the first page. _You were sorted into Slytherin in 1984, Mr. Themis, is that correct?_

Percy gestured for Trevor to sit. He ignored the folder and looked at the other man with a neutral expression.

"I have been assigned as your ... counsel," he said.

"Oh?"

Trevor tensed. Wizards didn't go for long and procedural legal processes. The High Court passed swift judgments with no appeals. Defendants were sometimes allowed assistance, but only during the trial. Percy's assignment could only mean that they would be going into session in a few minutes. The Aurors hadn't even interrogated him. Did that imply a sham trial? Percy guessed at his thoughts and corrected him.

"It's not what you think. We haven't yet decided if there was going to be a trial."

"I don't understand."

"Septimus Shrummer is dead, as is Armand Thelas. The only other name we had, Sir Comil, has been proved innocent." _I think that Ron was even more relieved for that than the man himself._

"What happened?"

"Officially they killed themselves." Percy showed indifference. "Some sort of compulsion apparently. Certainly no one attacked them."

"So everything's going to be hushed up?" said Trevor. _What are they planning to do? Keep me locked up for the rest of my life?_

"I don't think so. The Minister is anxious to account for all of these Circles, to make sure that they don't fall into the wrong hands, but for the long term, the consensus is that it is less dangerous to keep them under public guard, than to try to hide them again."

"What Minister? Amelia Bones?" Percy nodded.

"Yes. She was elected yesterday. The Goblin law was repealed, as well as all the ones Shrummer passed. The Wizengamot has confirmed the cession of Camelot to the Centaurs."

To Trevor, it felt like a bad dream. All that they had done was erased.

"So what about me? And what's your role as _counsel_?"

Percy looked a little embarrassed.

"I was chosen because of a ... similarity between us," he said. "I'm sure that you've heard the story."

He had, and he also thought that Percy's conversion had been short lived, but then this didn't really fit with what he was doing here, unless...

"You were a spy?" Percy nodded and showed a very thin smile. Trevor pursed his lips. "Good acting, Neither Shrummer nor I ever suspected anything." The other wizard shrugged.

"I disappointed my father once. When I had the chance to undo that, there was no question of repeating my mistake." He looked Trevor straight in the eye. "I admire him greatly, and his friends as well."

Trevor grimaced. Arthur Weasley was not the most comfortable subject for him. He and Shrummer had used the man in a very unsporting manner. First with the Goblins, and then for the election.

"I don't hate you," continued Percy.

Trevor acknowledged that. It didn't seem much, but somehow it helped to hear that, and he didn't hate them either. He could understand why Percy was here. He was probably the only one who could understand the choices he had made, even if it wasn't really the same thing. Trevor knew that it wouldn't be as easy for him to become honorable once more. He hadn't done any heroics, and there was no loving family to welcome him back. He shivered as he recalled that terrible day.

"Do you know what ... happened to Electra?" he asked.

Percy nodded grimly.

"I was there when professor Dumbledore spoke about it. When she killed that Unicorn, it was something similar to what happened with Harry's mother when, ah, _Voldemort_, killed her. Sacrifice magic. After that they were linked together, and with the Circle. When the boy used the horn, the life essence of the Unicorn somehow interfered with her, like a possession. They had to die together." He shrugged. "I don't pretend to understand it either."

Trevor reflected on that. It was a terrible fate. He had only known the woman a few days. _What a bloody waste._

"Not my finest hour," he murmured.

"Dumbledore said that even if you had stopped the boy, it wouldn't have changed much for her," said Percy gently. "She was doomed."

Trevor closed his eyes. He didn't want to think about it anymore.

"But Ginny and the others would have been dead, if not for your decision," added Percy. "That gives you the right to another chance."

"Bah," Trevor was disgusted. "Another chance at what? I'm a pariah for both sides. I'll be glad not to rot in jail, but I'm not going to find much sympathy outside."

Percy looked at him calmly.

"I don't know about that. Very little of this has transpired. Only a few people know who Electra was. Certainly you were associated with Shrummer, but that can be to our advantage."

Trevor looked up suddenly. The Gryffindor was going to propose him a deal. He wondered what it could be. There was one obvious answer of course, but it was completely crazy.

"We've gone over Alan Boocrat's house, and the others'. It will take years to sort through all the documentation. A lot of it was destroyed, but we now know a few things about their organization. They call themselves the Blood Brotherhood, a reference to 'pureblood' values of course. They usually work in the background, and they have a ruling council, all sworn to loyalty toward the group. We think that's why they committed suicide. To keep the secrets."

Trevor listened carefully. Electra had said that she was going to invite him to join a special group. That must have been it.

"Go on."

"What remains of them can't be too pleased with what Bones is going to push through, but some of their ideas have a lot of supporters in the old families. Professor Dumbledore doesn't think we can just hunt them all down, and they're not all Dark Wizards. So we've got to find another way."

Trevor waited for him to say it. He was sure that he knew what the plan of the old professor was.

"It would be best if the debate was out in the open," continued Percy, "and a strong minority in the opposition is always a good thing for a government."

"And maybe it could be the same thing," completed Trevor.

"I see that you understand. Would you like to take care of it?"

Trevor was amazed. They were asking him to go back to the Brotherhood, and work to transform it into a declared movement in the Wizengamot. He could see the logic behind it of course. Better have your enemy in full sight than hidden.

"I do not believe that you are going to let me go without some kind of string attached."

Percy nodded.

"Just one actually."

"I'm not going to play the spy," said Trevor immediately.

"Nothing so gross," corrected Percy with a smug smile. It was interesting to talk with people such as Trevor or Draco. He was learning. The trick was to always have some ammunition ready. If they caught you naked, you were cold meat. "We just want to setup some ground rules."

Trevor frowned. If the deck was stacked, then the game wasn't worth playing.

"Nothing you shouldn't agree to," clarified Percy. "No killing and no mental manipulation. Basically it means respecting the spirit of the ban against the _Unforgivables_."

Trevor thought about it. He had seen enough death to last him a lifetime, but he wouldn't be alone.

"There will always be some who will want to," he said.

"Certainly," replied Percy. "But the Brotherhood isn't a bunch of Death Eaters. Mostly they want to influence society. What happened was a perversion."

Trevor certainly agreed with that. It would certainly be easy enough to argue that Electra's policies had been a bad idea, and that they had cost the organization a lot. The Brotherhood was greatly weakened, but it made the opportunity all the more interesting. He could already see several possibilities.

"We could win you know," he said.

Percy smiled. It was going to be a fine thing to watch. Trevor and his former friends on one side, Dumbledore, Bones and the Six on the other.

"That's the point of course," he said. "We prefer that those people fight for influence in the High Court under their true colors, rather than have them conspire to overthrow the government, but my money is on Harry and his friends," he added.

The Slytherin wizard suddenly felt hope returning. The logic was twisted for sure, but it gave him a future, and he wasn't going to repeat Electra's mistake.

"Deal."

- - -

_Forbidden Forest, Centaurs' camp,_

They were all seated around the campfire. The Centaurs had invited all those who had participated in the saving of the Shrine. A feast of sort had been prepared. It would be a mixed menu. Flitz and the trio had discussed and sampled each other's food to identify what could be shared. Some of the Centaur cooking was ... interesting.

Dobby and Winky represented the House Elves. Several Unicorns were present. They wouldn't eat anything of course. Hermione had also proposed that representatives from the Goblins be invited. It had been agreed upon, and so Gauldbag and a few others were here as well. They and the Centaurs had eyed each other warily at first, but Dumbledore's friendly charm was acting to warm the ice. Of all things, he had suggested that they trade stories about their battles with humans. Gauldbag and Bane had exchanged a long glance, and then the Goblin had asked the Centaur if he too thought that wizards were crazy, with some more so than others.

Remus and Tonks were sitting together, next to Severus and Helen. There had been talks about a double wedding and buying a small house in Hogsmeade, although Tonks wasn't totally committed to leaving the London life yet. Ron wondered how the Parker twins felt about having professor Snape as their new father. They didn't seem to mind. Harry had explained that like him, they probably felt that they were part of larger informal family. Stepfathers, uncles, older friends. It all tended to merge together.

They had brought back Lyman's bow and Laurell's horn. Bane had told Helen and Richard that it would be fitting for the humans to keep them and cherish the memories of their former owners.

Molly and Arthur were there, with Silena huddled against her adopted mother. There had been a great teary scene when Arthur had brought them all back to the Burrow. Draco had gritted his teeth and taken it like a Weasley, under Ron's amused gaze. Ron was on a cloud. The contract with Sir Comil had been confirmed. Next week end, with Silena and the Parkers, they had an appointment at Nimbus Flyware to select the racing brooms that Harry had promised.

Hermione considered the peaceful scene. She reflected that it would make a proper replacement to that hypocritical fountain in Ministry's Hall. The real thing instead of a fake dream. There was no one to take a picture, but perhaps professor Dumbledore could take a pensieve memory and turn it into something similar, or maybe they could get an artist to make an enchanted painting.

In the meantime she would appreciate it with her eyes. It was a fitting end and new beginning.

THE END


End file.
